


Sweet Solutions

by Craftybadger1234



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Aurors, Blow Jobs, Claustrophobia, Coming Out, Developing Friendships, Fluff and Angst, Hand Jobs, M/M, Poison, Potions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-06 02:47:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15876897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Craftybadger1234/pseuds/Craftybadger1234
Summary: Draco is 'out' and an outcast. Harry is 'in' and confused and utterly failing at friendship. This is less a story about coming out, and more about trying to be friends in a post-war world.





	1. Ch 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to CleopatraIsMyName for being so awesome as beta! I hope I caught all the corrections (the number of homonyms made me giggle - I'm an idiot sometimes!), and that I didn't mess anything up with the few changes I made after. I loved your commentary along the way! :)
> 
> Also, sorry for the light Ron-bashing. I love supportive!Ron but he's a convenient target sometimes.

Draco touched his cheek one last time before opening the door to the DMLE lab. His fingers didn’t feel any swelling but the area still felt inflamed to his eyeball. As he sat at his desk, he pulled the little pot of bruise paste from his pocket and rubbed another bit over his cheekbone. If ever again he saw the muggle that punched him, he’d hex his ugly muggle nose to twice its regular hideous size.

He stared at the paperwork in front of him, determined to finish it all before lunch so he could get in some brewing time while Lydia was off for her lunch break. She should have retired nine months ago and left the lab to him. As it was though, no one trusted him there by himself. And so she remained, driving Draco spare with her lax attitude about the safety of Aurors.

As soon as she left, Draco gathered ingredients for a Wideye Potion for the Aurors to use during stakeouts. There never seemed to be enough to go around. He was just crushing the snake fangs in his mortar when Potter came in.

“Malfoy.” Potter nodded at him, then looked around. “Lydia gone to lunch already?”

“Yes. Is there something I can help you with?”

Potter cleared his throat and set a small vial on the table next to Draco’s mortar. “Yeah, erm… We need this analysed. Today, if possible. See if it matches the sample from last week.”

“Certainly,” Draco said, still focused on his mortar. “Just set it in my box and I’ll take care of it as soon as this gets simmering.” He heard Potter setting the vial down on his desk, but then nothing. “Is there anything else?”

Potter came to lean against the table nearby. Draco added some herbs to his mortar and kept crushing the contents. His heart started to race, waiting for - well he didn’t know what he was waiting for exactly.

Finally, Potter said quietly, “I, er, didn’t know you were gay.”

Draco sighed and shook his head. Fucking _Prophet_ and their nosy photographers. That flash bulb scared the muggle man he was with so much, thinking he was being set up somehow, it had earned Draco a punch in the face. “Congratulations, you’re the last wizard in all of England to learn of it. Come to make fun?”

“No, of course not. I just - I’ve never met anyone that was - was gay and… “

Draco kept grinding until he had a fine powder in his mortar, his annoyance growing with each breath Potter took.

“Erm, how,” Potter cleared his throat, “how did you know?”

Draco slammed the mortar on the table and grabbed a jar of billywig stings. He threw them into the cauldron one by one. “The usual, I suppose. I sucked a cock and I liked it. Listen, is there anything,” Draco turned to glare at Potter, “else?” he finished softly. Potter stared intently at Draco, giving him pause.

This wasn’t the usual sort of rude inquiry. Potter seemed genuinely curious. Or confused. Draco tilted his head to ask, “Potter, are you - “ but he cut off abruptly when Auror Johnson came in. Potter’s eyes widened and he took a step back.

“Malfoy,” Johnson said briskly. “Is Lydia here?”

“No,” Draco said, carefully ignoring Potter. “She’s gone to lunch already. Is there something I can help you with?”

Johnson gave an insolent shrug, “Thanks, but I’ll just wait for Lydia.”

Potter cleared his throat and shuffled for the door. Before he left, Draco said, “Potter, I won’t tell anyone - that I put a rush on your sample.” He paused for emphasis. “Even if that means I have to stay late tonight.”

Potter gave him a curt nod and followed Johnson out the door.

\--------

Draco did indeed work late, but no one noticed or cared. And it was all for naught because Potter never showed. No matter, Draco didn’t really care what Potter was after anyway. By the time he left the Ministry, a fine rain had begun to fall. Draco lamented the yucky October weather as he pulled his umbrella from his bag. He considered Apparating home, but needed to stop and pick up dinner. 

As he opened the umbrella, he caught an odd movement from the corner of his eye where the rain wasn’t falling quite right. Walking down the street, he also saw little puddles rippling from invisible feet. Potter must be following him. Draco almost laughed at the fond memories this dredged up. He stopped off for curry - enough for two - before heading home. 

He heard the faint echo of a second set of feet as he climbed the stairs to his flat. Pushing the door open, Draco turned to the seemingly empty space behind him. “Coming in?”

Potter whipped off the Invisibility Cloak and shrugged sheepishly. “How’d you know?”

“Next time choose a day that isn’t so rainy. Would you like some tea?” He held up the bag of food. “And dinner?”

Potter shrugged and followed Draco in, glancing around the single room. If he’d known he was having company, Draco would have transfigured the bed into a sofa. As it was, the bed loomed large as an erumpent and twice as explosive in the small space. Draco set the bag of food on the small table and turned to pull two forks from the drawer. Potter wandered around, touching all of Draco’s books and the pictures on his dresser before finally settling at the table with him.

“Nice place.”

“Thanks. It gets claustrophobic sometimes but I just shrink all the furniture and it’s not so bad.”

Potter nodded absently and began to eat. Draco waited for Potter to take a large bite before asking, “So, you want to fuck me later?”

As expected. Potter choked on his rice. Draco laughed as Potter spluttered. “No! No, that’s not - I wasn’t - I just - “

“Relax, Potter, I was only teasing.” Draco’s smile faded and he started eating, watching Potter’s blush deepen before fading to light splotches. “You want to go to a club?”

“Well… I tried that already. But the first time made me nauseous. And the second time I tried pushing past the queasiness and ended up having a panic attack.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah… and that’s not really safe anyway. I mean, you were caught in a muggle club, right?”

Now it was Draco’s turn to blush. “Yes, I was. Usually I go out glamoured. Once I took a portkey to France for the weekend.”

Potter sighed and leaned his head on his hand while he poked at his food. “It’s so much trouble and I don’t even know… I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Draco didn’t miss the way Potter’s eyes darted to the bed across the room. “Don’t you have friends to talk about this with?”

“No. Hermione, you know her parents are muggles… And they’re great people but… She’s said a few things that made me think she wouldn’t be okay with it. And Ron, he didn’t agree with her but he didn’t disagree either? So I don’t know what he thinks. I’m not close enough to anyone else to ask. And of course there’s always the chance someone’ll go to the paper about it…”

“Aren’t you afraid I will?”

Potter’s eyes met his. “Should I be?”

Draco’s lip quirked up in a half smile. “And jeopardize our budding friendship? Of course not! Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Thanks then,” Potter said with a nervous bite to his lip. He shoveled the food in his mouth so of course he finished long before Draco. He got up to pace nervously while Draco cleaned up the remains of their meal and stored the leftover food in the fridge.

“What’s through here?” Potter asked, pointing down the short hall.

“Straight ahead is the linen cupboard. The door on the right is the loo. The one on the left should be the bedroom but I use it as a home lab. It’s warded so any muggles that are here don’t wander in. That’s why I sleep out here.”

Potter glanced at the bed again, then turned his back on it. “Have a lot of muggles over?”

“Not really. My neighbor occasionally.” He continued with a shrug, “Sometimes I bring a one-off home and tell them I use the room for storage. But none of them care enough to look closely.”

Potter nodded and continued pacing. Draco transfigured the bed into a sofa and sat. After wringing his hands about it, Potter sat next to him. Silence dragged on, weighing on them both. Finally Draco had to ask, “Why me?”

“You’re the only one… I don’t know who else to turn to.”

Draco let that sink in before asking, “Anything you want to talk about? Ask me about?”

Abruptly, Potter shot to his feet. “Yeah, not tonight? Maybe - just some other time. I should probably go.”

“All right,” Draco said slowly. Before Potter could open the door, Draco reached for his wrist. “Wait…”

Potter’s eyes widened and Draco was struck anew by their vibrant color. Green eyes flicked down to Draco’s mouth and Potter’s tongue darted out to lick his lips. 

Eyes on Potter’s glistening lips, Draco said softly, “Maybe just one kiss before you go?”

A harsh exhale was the only warning before Potter’s lips descended on his. Immediately Draco knew this was a mistake. The soft moan Potter made coursed through Draco, setting his blood on fire. As Potter explored Draco’s mouth, a hundred blissful scenes played out in Draco’s mind, interspersed with a thousand scenes where Draco was left broken and alone. Draco leaned into Potter’s hand resting on his waist and knew he would suffer long and hard for giving in to the temptation to kiss Potter.

“I’m always here,” Draco whispered, “if you need me.”

Potter’s breath came in little bursts, his eyes even wider and brighter than before. He nodded jerkily and fumbled for the door knob. Without a backward glance, he raced down the stairs and into the rain.

\--------

Draco rose before sunrise the next day for work. He always went in early on Fridays so he could leave after lunch to run errands before the weekend. Too often he was called into the Auror lab on Saturdays and so it helped to have Friday afternoon free.

He brewed up another batch of Forgetfulness Potion and filed his paperwork accordingly. Vaguely he made note of when Potter arrived but was not surprised that Potter made no sign of recognition. Aside from the occasional prank, the Aurors in the department had ignored Draco as much as they could in the year he’d been working there. Today would be no different.

After putting the final touches on the Wideye Potion, he gathered his things and made his way to the lifts. He heard the grumbles the Aurors made about his early workday, but was long since accustomed to ignoring it. Say what they would, he put in more hours than any of them and Robards did not begrudge Draco the early dismissal from work.

He made four Apparition jumps to his various suppliers to collect ingredients he used in his home brewing business. It had taken a while to find suppliers that could do good work, while still giving him a fair price. Being a Malfoy in the post-war world had been a tricky transition, but Draco was managing. 

His mail order potions business had been going strong when word got out he was the one behind it. Subscriptions dropped considerably but by then, he had enough loyal customers that didn’t care who did the brewing so long as the potions worked. And thanks to journals and notes left to him by Severus Snape, they all worked better than the usual array of potions. He specialized in rare and hard to find potions that cured the odd ailments St Mungo’s didn’t know how to handle. He hoped his position at the Ministry would secure itself so he could quit brewing at home, but that day was still a long way off. 

Leftovers were sufficient for dinner and then Draco went to the lab to package a few orders that would go out that night. And then he would decide what needed brewing over the weekend. A sharp knock at the door startled him.

“Oh, Potter. I didn’t expect to see you so soon.” Draco held the door wide to let him in.

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure either but… I just didn’t want to go home.” Potter ruffled his hair and shrugged out of his jacket. He hugged it to his body and looked around, finally sitting down at the kitchen table rather than the bed.

“Did you want to eat?”

“No, thank you. I already did.” Potter’s leg jiggled under the table and he still hugged his jacket tight.

Draco wasn’t sure what to do next. Hesitantly he sat at the table and waited a few moments for Potter to bring up his reasons for being in Draco’s flat. As the silence stretched on, with Potter nervously drumming his foot, Draco was once again the one to give in.

“Did you want to talk?”

Eyes on the table in front of him, Potter shook his head.

A grin spread across Draco’s lips. He jerked his head to the bed. “Want to snog?’

Nail biting joined the leg jiggle, but then Potter nodded. Draco stood and held a hand out. “Come on, then.” When Potter stood, Draco took the jacket from him and laid it over the back of the chair. He transfigured the bed to a sofa and heard Potter sigh in relief.

Draco sat down, pulling Potter down to sit on his left side. Draco put his left arm around Potter’s shoulders and leaned in for a kiss, his right hand coming up to cup Potter’s cheek. And fuck if his mouth wasn’t as hot as Draco remembered.

Potter’s arm came around to circle Draco’s waist but his other was trapped between his body and the sofa. He twisted forward to get a better grip on Draco and that knocked their knees together. Potter shifted again until he was nearly straddling Draco to get their bodies closer.

“I think I want - do you - “ Potter stuttered between kisses, but he seemed unable to continue. His hand gripped Draco tight and the kiss turned frantic as Potter tried to sort through the new sensations.

“Anything you want,” Draco whispered. Dizzy with desire, Draco pulled Potter closer, needing more. He gripped tight to Potter’s thigh, trying not to drown in the hot rush of lust as the kisses became slow and lingering. 

“Wait,” Potter said suddenly. He wrenched away from Draco and settled on the far side of the sofa. He rested his head in his hands and took several deep breaths. “Wait,” he repeated softly.

Draco rested his hands on his thighs and dropped his head back with a sigh. He crossed his arms and stared at Potter, hunched in misery. “All right there?”

“I don’t know. I’m just - “ He sighed and stood up to pace. Turning to the door, he said, “I think I should go.”

“You can stay. Just stay. We don’t have to…” Draco pointed to the little hallway, “I was going to brew a few things. Want to keep me company?”

“Maybe next time. I should go. Thanks for… “ He ruffled his hair again and pulled the door open. “Bye, then.” Before Draco could react, the door slammed shut.

\--------

Draco didn’t see Potter the rest of the weekend and wondered if his big gay freak-out was already over. He hadn’t anticipated such a short run, and felt he should have at least offered Potter a blow job. He sullenly sorted potion requests and other paperwork while lamenting his lost chance at having Potter in his bed.

On Monday, Lydia botched yet another Wiggenweld Potion by adding too much honey at the end, but Draco was prepared and already had the requisition for more ingredients ready to file. He could brew it after she left for the day. He searched his desk for another form seeking permission to vanish the weaker brew. What if Robards was simply tossing this paperwork in his fire? Was he even building evidence that it was time for Lydia to retire? 

He only caught one glimpse of Potter as Macmillan took orders for an afternoon coffee run. Potter turned away from him as Macmillan went through the rest of the department, but didn’t pause to ask if Draco wanted to add anything. It wasn’t unusual for Draco to be left out of these sorts of things and he wasn’t surprised Potter didn't speak up for him.

Not that it mattered to Draco. He didn’t even like coffee and whatever was brought back for him was bound to be poisoned. Which reminded him he had a few antidotes that needed brewing so he didn’t have time for coffee and idle chit chat anyway.

\--------

Draco trudged up the last few steps and paused outside his door to take a deep breath. The ache in his feet and back throbbed along with his heartbeat. Sinking into a boiling hot bath was all he could think about.

Those thoughts fled his brain the moment he opened the door to find Harry Potter sitting on the sofa, feet propped up on the coffee table as though he were in his own home where such things were allowed. 

“I let myself in,” Potter said unnecessarily.

Draco set his messenger bag and the bag of food he was carrying on the kitchen table. “I see that. So sure of your welcome?”

Potter gave him a half-smile, “The wards let me in.”

“ _Let_ you in, or didn’t object too strongly?”

Potter had the grace to blush. “Maybe it was the second one.”

“I wasn’t expecting you but I’m sure there’s enough food for us both.” Draco shrugged out of his jacket and hung it up by the door. “I hope you like Italian.” He crossed to the sink and washed his hands before finding them plates and forks.

“I already ate. You’re home kind of late.”

Draco put the plates back and sat down at the table. “I had some after hours work to do.”

Potter started pulling the containers from the bag, opening them like a nosy git before handing them to Draco. He snitched a piece of garlic bread but Draco didn’t comment.

“I came by. Before. On Saturday.” 

“I was called into the Ministry.”

“Ugh, Robards must whine at you nonstop about overtime.”

Draco snorted, “Robards doesn’t pay me overtime.” He found his salad and the little container of dressing. The first bite reminded him how long it had been since lunch.

“Oh,” Potter mumbled, stuffing most of his slice of bread in his mouth.

Draco ate in silence, inwardly laughing every time Potter’s eyes strayed to the sofa. It was clear what he was after. How long would they play this game? How far was Potter willing to take things? And could Draco risk throwing more of himself into this mess?

“Come to any decisions yet? About what you want?”

Potter audibly swallowed the tomato he’d plucked from the remains of Draco’s salad. “Er, no… not really. No.” He coughed and ran his hand through his hair.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Potter said, grinning, “I’m more ‘hands on’ than ‘talk it out.’”

“I’d certainly not turn away ‘hands on’ any time,” Draco said with a return grin. “But if you did want to talk, I would.”

Potter’s face softened. “I appreciate that but… I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to sort through these things. And kissing you the other night… It was the first thing that felt right. But after…”

“All that shit people say came rushing back?”

“Yeah,” Potter sighed. “I hear my uncle and aunt and all their… vitriol. And I hate it because I don’t even care what they think. They’re horrible human beings and so why does their opinion count for anything?”

“They’re still the people that raised you, good or bad. My father didn’t take my news well and now - “

“Lucius has always been narrow minded. Not sure why you’re surprised he reacted that way.”

Although Potter’s words were true, they still stung. Draco shrugged and continued eating his ravioli in cream sauce so he didn’t have to respond. Potter must have known he’d crossed a line. He dropped his eyes to his second piece of garlic bread, tearing it into little pieces to eat. Draco almost hoped he’d choke on it, but that wouldn’t get him laid later so he changed the subject instead.

“Is this going to be a regular thing? You coming over here?”

“I don’t know.”

Draco vanished the rubbish and put his leftover food in the fridge. “Well when you decide, let me know and I’ll adjust the wards for you.” He shot a breath freshening charm at himself, then at a grinning Potter. “Come on, git, I don’t have all night.”

“Don’t you?” Potter asked as he followed Draco to the sofa.

“You only wish…”

Kissing a laughing Potter was more than Draco had hoped for this evening. His body still ached but that feeling ebbed away as passion rose up in its place. Potter seemed to be in a good mood and Draco took advantage of the moment to slip his hands under Potter’s shirt. He tensed under Draco’s hands but didn’t try to push him away. 

Draco remembered his first awkward encounters with another man and how vulnerable he’d felt not knowing what was allowed and what was expected. This prompted him to babble between kisses, “You feel so good. I want to feel all your skin next to mine. I want to strip you down and suck your cock until you come down my throat. Can I take off your shirt?” 

Not wanting Potter to feel alone, Draco pulled back to yank his own shirt over his head. He kissed Potter’s neck and whispered, “Help me get this off.” He pushed up on the shirt, and continued, “Tell me what you want. Anything… You can have it if you ask for it. Tell me… “ Potter’s shirt was driving Draco mad. It wouldn’t come off and Potter wasn’t helping, only gripping tight to Draco’s waist. Draco plunged his tongue deep into Potter’s mouth with a moan.

Without warning, Potter stood, shoving Draco to the floor. Draco cursed when his shoulder struck the corner of the coffee table.

“What the fuck, Potter?” He stood, rubbing his shoulder. “What is the matter with you?”

“It’s - you - you can’t say shit like that!”

“What - that I want you? Isn’t that why you’re here?” Draco crossed his arms over his bare chest. “Think you’re going to figure things out if we share a few kisses? Don’t you want more? Don’t you fantasize about more? Because honestly, if you aren’t wanking to the snog session from the other night, then maybe you’re not into men after all.”

Potter growled and tugged at his hair, “I am! I mean - I did but - fucking hell! It’s not that easy, all right?”

“It’s exactly that easy! I can see how hard you are,” Draco yelled with a careless gesture at the bulge in Potter’s jeans. “Don’t you want to get off?”

“Damn it! It’s not - this is just - it’s too fast!”

Instantly Draco felt contrite. “Fine, all right.” Draco held his hands up in a placating gesture. “I’m sorry.” He moved closer to hold Potter in a loose embrace. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while since I was new at this and I guess I’ve forgotten what it’s like. If you don’t want more, we don’t have to do any more.”

“I _do_ want more,” Potter mumbled into Draco’s neck, “but I can’t just - let you… you know…”

Draco shook his head, “Uh-uh Potter… if you can’t say it, you can’t do it.” He dragged his lips along Potter’s jaw to his ear. He whispered, “Say it and I will. Tell me you want me to suck you off and I will.” He ran a hand over Potter’s erection and traced the skin above his waistband. 

Potter moaned and gripped tighter to Draco’s waist. “I - I want it. You - a - blow job. I _do_ But I don’t know if I can…”

“With a man? Or with me? You can close your eyes. Then I could be anyone… Even a woman if that’s what you really wanted.”

He unfastened Potter’s jeans as they kissed again. A light shove sent Potter back to the sofa. Draco knelt between Potter’s legs and lifted his t-shirt enough to kiss the exposed skin of his belly. He hooked his fingers in Potter’s pants, ready to tug them down. “Please let me… Just a bit of fun. A mouth is just a mouth, right?”

Potter’s only answer was to lift his hips. His head dropped back with a sigh as Draco nuzzled the dark hairs surrounding his prick. The first lick around the head of his cock made Potter moan in a way that sent shivers down Draco’s back.

It wasn’t entirely true that a mouth was just a mouth. No matter how many blow jobs she’d given, a woman could never compete with a man in this area. Having a cock of his own gave Draco an expertise a woman could never match and he used all of it to make Potter squirm. Each moan and shiver made Draco harder until he felt pre-come soaking his pants. 

“Dra - Mal - Malfoy, _fuck_... “ Draco looked up when Potter moaned his name. He clutched his shirt to his chest and watched every movement of Draco’s lips and tongue. Potter licked his lips and heaved a broken sigh. “It’s - almost - “ His hips thrust hard and fast and his head dropped back. With a high moan he came, dropping his shirt to plunge his hand into Draco’s cropped hair, the other bracing hard against the sofa cushions. “Yes, yes, _yes_... fucking hell!” His hips stilled and he dropped his hand to his side, melting into the sofa. 

Draco stood and tugged his trousers and pants down. “Can I come on you?” he asked as he pumped his fist over his hard cock. Potter’s eyes were dazed as they met his. “Can I?” he asked again. Potter nodded, his eyes widening.

He was too close, too sensitive for it to last any longer. He’d hoped to draw it out, to have Potter’s hands on him, but seeing that glazed post-orgasm bliss on Potter’s face had him coming too quickly, spraying come on Potter’s belly making the muscles in his abdomen clench. And fuck if Potter wasn’t the most gorgeous thing Draco had ever seen - eyes still dazed and dilated, lips swollen and red, come on his spit-slicked cock, and his chest rising and falling with each rapid breath. 

“Let me get my wand,” Draco said softly as he pulled his pants and trousers back up.

“I’ve got it.” Potter waved his hand over the mess and it vanished.

Draco smiled as he put his shirt back on. “Handy little trick.”

Potter shrugged and slowly pulled his clothes back together. “So… I guess I should go now.”

“Are you coming back?” Draco asked, hating how needy it sounded. He didn’t need Potter - Potter needed _him_. 

“Yeah.” Potter stood but kept his eyes trained on his feet. “If that’s all right?”

“I'm always up for hands on activities,” Draco said, trying to get one last smile.

But Potter didn’t smile. He bit his lip nervously, nodded a goodbye, and Disapparated with barely a pop.

\--------

Draco smothered a yawn as he stirred the cauldron in front of him. Only a minute more and it would turn a blood red that indicated it was finished. And just in time too, because Draco was dead on his feet. He’d stayed up late every night for the past week hoping Potter would show up. The not knowing drove him mad, but twice he’d been rewarded with a late night visit. He hoped to sneak in a short nap during his lunch break so he could get through the rest of the day, but that was too unlikely to bet on.

What he needed was a strong cup of tea to perk him up. Down the hall, he heard the mumbled chorus of _Happy Birthday_ from the break room. Probably half the department was there waiting on cake. He wouldn’t be welcome and grumbled to himself about the rule against food in the lab. 

He bottled the Blood Replenishing Potion into sixteen single-serving vials, knowing Lydia would grumble because he didn’t use the one large bottle she preferred. Draco stored all his potions this way and she thought it was a great waste of space. As if wizards couldn’t conjure the bottles, shelves, and space for whatever they wanted. He labeled each one carefully, then stored them neatly in the potions cupboard and secured it with a spell.

After washing his hands, he made his way down the hall to the break room for his tea. Draco buried a groan when he found the six Junior Aurors still eating cake. They glowered at him and turned their backs, as if that would shield the cake from his view. But he didn’t want cake anyway. He grabbed his mug and a tea bag without comment. Briefly his eyes made contact with Potter as he left the room but neither of them said anything.

Draco sat on the floor of the locker room off the training center to scour his mug free of potential hexes and then filled it with boiling water from his wand. And not for the first time, wished he could enjoy his tea at a table with the others.


	2. Ch 2

Draco was determined to get to bed at a decent hour that night. He didn’t have any orders to send out, no potions that desperately needed researching, and nothing urgent to brew. And he was sick of waiting for Potter like some pathetic pet crup. He took a long hot shower to relax and curled up in bed, and thrust all thoughts of Potter from his mind.

All of them. Even the ones of Potter’s face flushing red in bliss. And the ones of him tentatively licking the head of Draco’s cock. And the ones of him laughing and tackling Draco backwards on the sofa, then shifting it to a bed as he straddled Draco’s lap. And he didn’t get hard at _all_ while he didn’t think of these things.

But it was still difficult to fall asleep so he was still awake when the soft pop of Apparition dropped Potter into his living room.

“Oh, you’re in bed already. Did I wake you?”

“No,” Draco said with a smile. “I wasn’t sure you were coming and figured you’d be happy to find me naked anyway.”

Potter grinned as he pulled his shirt over his head. “I am, indeed.” He lost patience with his clothes and wandlessly banished them all to the floor, then dumped his glasses on the coffee table. He crawled into bed and pulled Draco close. “Mmm… glad you’re still awake and I didn’t miss the show.” He gave Draco a soft kiss and whispered, “I want to watch you.”

“Do you now?” Draco asked with a grin. He tucked one hand behind his head while Potter pulled the covers back. Lazily he stroked at his cock, enjoying the wide-eyed wonder on Potter’s face. He'd been coming to Draco’s flat nearly every night for a month, and sometimes seemed just as innocent as when they started. 

“You look gorgeous,” Potter said, sighing happily as he took in Draco’s form. Hesitantly he reached out, stroking Draco’s thigh. “Do you think - maybe we could do more?”

“What kind of more?” Draco asked with a smile. He’d stuck with his ‘can’t say it, can’t do it’ mantra and it was helping Potter to admit the things he wanted. Some things they enjoyed, others not so much, but Potter didn’t have to worry and wonder anymore.

Potter buried his face in Draco’s neck and inhaled deeply. He kissed just below Draco’s ear and moaned softly. “I want… I want to fuck you.” His arms came around Draco to stroke down his back, hesitantly caressing the swell of Draco’s arse.

Draco smiled, “First things first… there are spells to learn…”

Potter listened intently and eagerly. His mouth was a hot brand over Draco’s skin, and his hands never stopped moving. Draco felt the tremble in Potter’s fingers as he prepared him so he whispered softly to ease the tension. It was sheer bliss to welcome Potter inside - the soft sigh, the sweet moans, the hands gripping tight to his thigh.

“Draco...” Potter said on a broken sigh. Something hot erupted in Draco’s chest at the sound of his name on Potter’s lips. It spread through his whole body as Potter rocked gently.

Draco fisted his cock quickly, figuring Potter wouldn’t last long. “Tilt your hips… yes… just like that…”

“You feel so… Draco, I can’t… “ Potter choked back one last moan and thrust hard and deep. His breath burned into Draco’s neck as the last of his orgasm washed over him. “Draco… you…” Potter’s hand replaced Draco’s and he brought him off with a few fast strokes, sighing again when he felt Draco’s release coating his hand. He collapsed on Draco, breathing hard.

As his heart rate slowed, Potter cleaned them up with a wave of his hand and draped himself across Draco, hugging him tight. Draco idly ran his fingers through Potter’s hair. Bit by bit, he felt the tension rise in Potter again. First in his breath coming a little too fast. Then his fingers, pressing and releasing against Draco’s hip. His head curled down and pressed harder into Draco’s chest. 

And Draco remembered his first time, how good it all felt until the ugly words that followed. The shameful walk home and the tears he hid in his bedroom. And of course, the fight with his father that came after. If Potter could get through the night with supportive company, he would be less likely to cave into guilt or shame. Everything looked better in the morning light.

Draco was proud his voice didn’t crack as he whispered, “That was beautiful.” Potter held him tighter for a moment, then sighed. Draco brushed a kiss on the top of his head. “Stay with me? Just for tonight?”

“It - it _is_ rather late…” Potter’s arm relaxed another fraction. “Maybe too late to Apparate back home.”

Draco arranged them both so Potter was spooning him. “It’s settled then. We’ll have breakfast before you go.”

“Perfect.”

\--------

The next morning, Draco untangled himself from Potter’s octopus arms with a wide grin on his face. He’d tossed and turned more than usual, unused to another body in his bed, but each time made him smile when he saw Potter’s soft, sleepy face. Quietly he pulled on pyjama bottoms and crossed to the kitchen to get his breakfast.

Potter groaned and rolled up with a tired glance around. “What time is it? Feels like we’re up early.” He fumbled for his glasses on the coffee table and looked around with a scrunched up face.

“It’s not that early. Almost eight.”

“Ugh,” Potter whined, wrapping himself in Draco’s sheet and joining him at the table. “That’s early for a Saturday.”

Draco shrugged and poured them both some cereal. “You’ve probably got somewhere to be, right? And I’ll be getting an owl any minute now calling me into work so… eat up!”

Potter frowned down at his bowl. “Cereal?”

“Yes, cereal.”

“Why aren’t we having a real breakfast?”

“Because this is the breakfast I have. I have other kinds if you don’t like this one.” Draco flicked his wand at the cupboard to reveal six more boxes of cereal.

Potter swirled his spoon through milk and flakes. “Next time, we’re staying at mine and having a real breakfast.”

Draco was glad he didn’t have food in his mouth to choke on. Potter had never once offered to have Draco over to his house. Faking a calm he most certainly did _not_ feel, he said, “Sounds lovely.”

“Are you sure you have to go into work? How do you know they’ll owl you?”

“Because there have only been two Saturdays since I was hired that they didn’t and one of those was when the department flooded.”

“Doesn’t Lydia ever cover any?”

Draco didn’t even bother to reply. He slurped up the last of his milk in a way that would make his mother faint and took his bowl to the sink.

“Nice jammies,” Potter said with a smirk. 

Draco looked down at the fabric - baby nifflers stuffing stars into their pouches - before shrugging, “There’s a matching t-shirt somewhere of another niffler reaching for the moon.”

Potter shook his head with a smile and got up from the table. He wrapped his arms around Draco, enclosing him in the sheet. The sleepy warmth of his body soaked through Draco’s pyjamas. Potter nuzzled Draco’s neck and kissed along his jaw until he reached Draco’s lips. “I fucking hate cereal,” he whispered seductively.

Draco gave a sharp bark of laughter at the unexpected comment. Potter laughed with him and kissed his lips. Before they could progress any further, an owl tapped at Draco’s window.

\--------

“Have you given any thought to coming out yet?” Draco asked as they approached the grocery store. It was near closing time and the street was empty enough to avoid eavesdroppers.

“Not really,” Potter shrugged, eyeing Draco carefully. “It’s scary.”

“Yes, it is.” Draco pulled his jacket tighter against the November wind and sighed, “I could say the usual about how much good a public figure like you could do for the image of gay men, but fuck them. In the figurative sense.”

Potter laughed and gave him a playful shove. “Are you happy you’re out?”

“Yes and no,” Draco said thoughtfully. “I mean, it was hard, obviously, with my parents.” Potter’s face soured at the mention of them so Draco skated past the subject. “But I was tired of living my life for someone else. That almost got me killed more than once.”

“I’m just worried I’ll - oh _shit_ it’s Auror Stebbins!”

Before Draco had time to blink, Potter had shoved him away and Apparated with a loud crack. Draco could only register the muggle woman behind him panicking about the man that just disappeared. Draco hit her with a Confundus Charm and said kindly, “There wasn’t anyone here. It’s all right.”

“All right,” she echoed airily and turned back the way she came.

“Malfoy,” Auror Stubbins growled from just behind him, his thick black eyebrows drawn down so low they nearly obscured his eyes completely. “First Apparating into a muggle area, and then confounding a muggle? Have you lost your mind?”

Draco turned, arms up in defence, “No, I wasn’t - I was with someone and he - “

“Save it for the interrogation room.” Auror Stebbins wrapped a thick hand around Draco’s arm and dragged him to the alley nearby and Apparated them to the Ministry.

\--------

Draco wanted to stomp angrily up the stairs to his flat but he was too tired. How could they possibly need three hours to question him about an event that took less than ten seconds? He needed a drink. A strong one. Did he even have any alcohol in his flat?

Probably not but he had a Harry Potter in his flat.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing here, you insensitive, reckless, fucking _arse_!”

“Draco - I’m so - “ Potter reached out for Draco, but Draco shoved him back.

“Fuck you and your apologies too. And don’t call me Draco. Don’t call me anything!” Draco dumped his bag and his jacket on the kitchen table. He crossed his arms over his chest and growled, “Get out of here - I’m not in the mood to see your stupid face right now!”

“Please, I’m so sorry. I panicked and I - I just - “

“You just fucking left me there to handle the fallout. A three hour interrogation and a twenty-five galleon fine!”

Potter immediately dug in his pockets. “I’ll pay you back, I swear it.” He pulled out a handful of coins and held them out to Draco.

Draco smacked his hand, sending coins flying in all directions. “I don’t want your money! I want you out of my flat!”

“Please, let me just explain…”

“No, I already heard you. You panicked. Couldn’t handle someone seeing us together. Fine, I get it. That doesn’t mean I have to put up with you right now.”

“It’s - we were talking - “ Potter tugged at his hair, his eyes on the floor, “about coming out and I saw him there and - “

“And you couldn’t pretend we ran into each other by accident? Or that we’re - Merlin forbid - _friends_ of a sort? We work in the same department! He knows you know me!”

“I know and I’m sorry!” He reached for Draco again.

Draco scowled at the gesture. “Sorry is just a word. If you were really sorry, you wouldn’t be playing the victim when all I want is to be left alone.”

“Draco - “

“Get the fuck out of my flat or I will hex you.” He pulled his wand and sneered at Potter, “I know some nasty ones, you know. Learned them first hand.”

“I’m sorry. So sorry. I’ll just - I’ll go. Can I come back?”

“I don’t know.”

Potter nodded, eyes downcast. He pressed his lips together against any further words and Disapparated with barely a sound.

\--------

Word spread quickly through the department of Draco’s fiasco. Everyone knew about the unnamed man Draco tried to pin it on and the fine he’d paid. Potter helped squash the rumors that Draco had hexed the poor muggle woman to within an inch of her life. But he did so by citing the ‘low’ fine he paid rather than defending Draco’s character. 

Draco stuck close to the lab for the whole week, not even leaving for lunch or his regular tea break. There were too many suspicious Aurors out there waiting for him to trip up so they could descend like vultures. For the millionth time he wanted to quit the Ministry job he hated, but knew if he ever hoped to redeem his name and make a real life for himself, saving Auror lives was the way to do it.

He carefully bottled potions and filed his proper paperwork and saved Lydia from catastrophic mistakes and cursed Potter for being afraid of his own shadow. And he slept alone every night.

\--------

Draco sullenly gathered his things for the walk home. He’d opted not to leave early on this Friday so as not to give the others more to gossip about. It had taken a while for everyone else to leave for the day but finally the department was empty enough he could walk to the lift without bumping into anyone.

Except, of course, for Potter.

“So… Ron and Hermione are on holiday.”

“That’s amazing,” Draco deadpanned. He smacked the button for the lift again because everyone knew it made the lift arrive faster.

“Yeah, so I have the house to myself this weekend.”

“Very happy for you. Plan to dance around in your pants?”

“Only if you’re there with me.”

Draco sighed as the doors opened and Potter followed him inside. He leaned on one wall and crossed his arms over his chest.

“What do you say?” Potter asked, a hopeful, doe-eyed look on his face. “Want to come to mine? I’ll cook for us. Dinner tonight. A - a proper breakfast in the morning.”

The silence seemed to stretch on forever. “What is this?” Draco finally asked.

“It’s my way of - “ Potter cut off when the doors opened. He looked around the empty Atrium and dropped his voice to a whisper. “I just want to apologize.”

Draco shook his head and Apparated down the street from his flat. Potter was three steps behind him, easily keeping pace with Draco’s long strides.

“Please, Draco. Come to mine. We’ll have food, maybe watch a film.”

“Have sex. That’s what you’re after, right?” Draco stopped abruptly and turned. “Are you sorry that you left me that day, or sorry that you’ve not had sex in over a week?”

“Sorry that I left! You don’t have to have sex with me, you know!” Potter blushed as another couple passed, giggling at Potter’s words. He scowled and said, “I’m sorry and I miss you and I want you to come to mine just to hang out. It’s rare Ron and Hermione leave and I don’t want to miss this chance for us. Please.”

Draco briefly considered that staying in Potter’s good graces would probably do more for his status than any amount of work at the Ministry but absolutely refused to let that influence him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to clear his mind. He remembered the fear of coming out and how his family and friends reacted. He remembered a few one-offs that ended in sorrow rather than pleasure. He remembered wishing he had someone to help him.

“Fine.” Draco continued over Potter’s joyful whoop, “I have some work to do tonight but then we can go to yours.”

\--------

Potter watched Draco wrap the prepared potions in hot pink paper secured with a black bow. He layered protective charms to prevent breaking and set each one in its own plain brown box along with a pink and black card with a loopy script that said, _We’re happy to have helped you find a Sweet Solution to your problem. - DLM_

“That pink is hideous.”

“I know, I’ve been looking at it for two and a half years.” Draco labeled the last box and set it on the pile with the others. “But when I first started, it was easier to pretend I was a brilliant young witch just starting out in the world. And then after they found out it was me, it felt rude to change it. Don’t want to rub it in anyone’s face they’d been duped by a despicable Malfoy.”

Potter’s face screwed up into a disbelieving face that made Draco laugh. “I know it doesn’t make sense but it’s too late to change it now. People like the illusion of Daisy Lou Mason so…” Draco shrugged and bundled all the packages together. Biscuit, his brown spotted owl, sat patiently while Draco secured the bundle to her harness. She hooted softly then flew off to the post office.

“Is that it? We can go?”

“Not just yet, I have two things to start brewing and then we can.”

Potter sighed and conjured a chair to sit in. Or rather, lounge across while staring at the ceiling. “How long is this going to take?”

“As long as it takes. If you want, you can wait at your house and I’ll come over as soon as I can.”

“I’m afraid if I leave you here, you won’t be bothered to follow.”

Draco shrugged again, unwilling to admit Potter was probably correct. He chopped and smashed and sliced and minced various ingredients while flipping through two ancient books and a notebook written in a small spidery scrawl. He fucking hated potions.

He needed a distraction. “I’m ready to hear your apology.”

“What apology?”

Draco glared at the idiot in the chair behind him. “For getting me in trouble with Stebbins. Remember? The whole reason you’re here now?”

“Yes, of course,” Potter said, straightening in the chair. “Well… I am. Sorry. I’m sorry for leaving so abruptly.”

“And?”

“And… and not coming forward even after you got in trouble.”

Draco nodded, peering into his cauldron as he stirred. Was that it? Or was Potter no longer interested in defending himself? 

He must have taken Draco’s silence for dissatisfaction because the babbling began in earnest. “I didn’t know what to say. You hadn’t admitted it was me - which, thank you, by the way - and it seemed foolhardy to admit to it because then they’d wonder what we were doing there together and if it was all innocent - which it was - then why did I Apparate away without considering the muggle woman behind us? And - and I was afraid they’d… you know…”

“Did you think Stebbins would think you were gay because you were with me? It’s not contagious, you know.”

“I know,” Potter said, scrubbing his hair, “but we were talking about coming out and in my head, he could hear us and I panicked. I didn’t think about the possibility of an innocent encounter.”

“Don’t they teach you to deal with stress and surprise attacks in your training? Surely you’ve had practice with carefully assessing a situation and acting accordingly.”

Potter’s grin made Draco’s heart race, “Yeah, well… Careful judgement isn’t exactly my strong suit.”

Draco shook his head and lowered the flame on his cauldrons. One he covered with a cotton tea towel to cure overnight. The other he set to stir itself three times every minute while he prepared the bottles it would go in.

“Perhaps you should practice your surprise face. That way when someone sees us together you can say something like, ‘Malfoy, what a surprise to see you here!’ and no one will think anything of it.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“It _is_ easy. It would be even easier if you’d smile at me every so often in the Ministry or toss me a ‘Good morning, Malfoy’ every now and again.”

Potter nibbled his thumbnail, eyes on the ground, and mumbled, “That’s definitely not so easy.”

“Casual, friendly acquaintance? Even that’s not possible?” Draco crossed his arms to stare impassively at Potter.

“It’s just…” Potter crossed the room to hug Draco. “I’m not sure I can… I can’t keep what I feel hidden. Not like you can. If I start with hellos and good mornings, before long I’m calling you Draco and mooning over you during stakeouts. They’ll know. And I’m not - not ready for that yet.”

Draco’s arms came up around Potter. “All right. It’s okay if you can’t say it just yet.” He cupped Potter’s cheeks and kissed him softly on the lips. “Don’t ever come out before you’re ready. Anyone that pushes you into it isn’t worth your time, all right?”

Potter nodded, green eyes wide enough to sink into. Draco smiled and kissed Potter again, slower and deeper, until Potter’s hands began unfastening Draco’s trousers.

“Uh-uh, naughty thing. I’ve got to get this bottled first.” Draco laughed as Potter groaned and went back to lounging in his chair.

\--------

Draco raised a brow at the elaborate plate Potter set before him. Eggs, toast, bacon, fried tomatoes and mushrooms, and even three strawberries carved into roses.

“I may have gone a little overboard.”

“Yes, but it looks delicious!” Draco said with a smile. He licked at the strawberry’s petals before taking a tiny nibble. He winked at Potter and ate the rest in a single bite.

Potter grinned and cleared his throat. “I thought maybe we could do some flying today. It’s been ages since I last went. We could have a seeker’s match?”

“I would love to but I can’t today. I’ll have work. But tomorrow?” Draco slathered his toast with strawberry jam and alternated bites with his bacon. “Mmm… I love bacon. Wish I were better at frying it.”

“I can’t tomorrow. We go to the Burrow - er, the Weasleys’ - on Sunday for lunch. Ron and Hermione are meeting me there.”

Draco shrugged. “Maybe tonight. Although I’ll have some at-home work to finish first.” 

“Are you ever not working?”

“Hm, sometimes I fuck you...” Draco said with a grin. 

Potter rolled his eyes. “I’m serious. You’re at the Ministry all day, every day, then you come home and brew for ‘Sweet Solutions’. When do you have fun?”

Draco polished off the last of his bacon and mushrooms, leaving the tomatoes and most of the eggs behind. “I’m having fun with you, aren’t I?”

“Barely.”

“Don’t whine, you sound like a baby.” They both looked to the window as a Ministry owl tapped the glass. “And there’s the call. I have to get dressed.” Draco scanned the note with an eye roll. The Ministry’s excuses for bringing him to work were getting rather thin.

Potter vanished the remains of Draco’s breakfast then sent the plate to the sink to wash. “Can’t you just call in sick? Tell them you have plans? Make them bring Lydia in.”

“It doesn’t work like that. Plus, they’re looking for any excuse to fire me and I’m already on thin ice from that incident with the muggle.”

“Oh,” Potter said quietly. He sent his own plate to the sink and wrapped his arms around Draco. “Want me to come in too? Keep you company?”

Draco considered their fragile peace and knew it would be shattered if someone else showed up in the lab. He shook his head. “Enjoy your day off. I’ll see you tonight.”

\--------

Later that week, a wizard in International Magical Cooperation was found to be having a torrid affair with a witch from the Brazilian embassy and everyone seemed to forget entirely about Draco’s run-in with a muggle. It was easy at that point to forgive Potter his lapse in judgement and let everything return to normal between them. Whatever fears Potter had held in reserve about Draco dissolved when Draco had withstood interrogation for him.

Two weeks later, Draco whistled a happy tune as he looked through his paperwork. He could hardly remember the last time he was happy enough to whistle. The sound cut off when Aurors Whitby and Jones dragged in their team of Junior Aurors - Potter, Weasley, Finnigan, and Macmillan. All four Junior Aurors were scoured bright pink and itching at their exposed skin, eyes sheepishly downcast.

“Where’s Lydia?” Auror Whitby bellowed.

“She’s gone on her break. Is there something I can help you with, Auror Whitby?”

Jerking his thumb at the Junior Aurors, he continued shouting, “These four idiots practically bathed in the Armadillo Bile Mixture we were using to dissolve some locks.”

“Oh!” Draco shot to his feet and summoned a bottle of Unicorn Hair Extract, as well as a tub of coconut oil. “You’ll need a scrub.” 

“They’ve already had a scrub,” Auror Jones said with a scowl. “When is Lydia getting back?

Draco measured twenty drops of extract into the melted oil and cooled it to room temperature. “No, this kind of scrub. A scouring charm won’t do.” He divided the mixture into four little pots and offered them to the Junior Aurors. “I don’t know when she’ll be back. Sometimes she doesn’t come back for hours.”

Auror Whitby’s face soured and he looked to Auror Jones. “Maybe we should just send them on to St Mungo’s.”

“They just need Unicorn Hair Extract on the exposed skin. It’ll stop the burning.”

“I’d rather just go,” Weasley said, glaring at Malfoy.

Finnigan tugged at his reddened ear. “Me too.” He smacked Potter on the arm and inclined his head. “Let’s go.”

“Lydia would tell you the same - “ Draco began but no one heard. They were already filing out of the lab.

“Just hurry back, pups,” he heard Jones sigh, “because I’m not filling out the paperwork for this.”

Potter trailed behind, mouthing a contrite ‘Sorry’ to Draco. 

\--------

It was time to call off this ridiculous arrangement.

All Draco wanted to do was help Potter feel more comfortable with himself. And he must be by now, judging by the way his lips trailed over Draco’s skin without fear or shame. 

Draco needed to get away before he lost more of himself. He should forbid Potter entrance to his home so he didn’t have to smell Potter’s scent on his sheets. He should get a little distance so Draco could forget the sound of Potter’s laugh.

Or he could go ahead and forget entirely the way Potter shunned him in public and just savour every kiss and caress. He was a whiz at Occlumency - compartmentalizing his life was no problem.

When Potter came over that night, skin glowing from the Unicorn Hair Extract they’d given him at St Mungo’s, Draco drew him in for a deep kiss before either of them said anything stupid. Potter willingly surrendered, shedding his clothes and wrapping himself tightly around Draco. 

“I’m sorry,” Potter whispered between kisses.

Draco responded with a growl and a bruising kiss. It hurt, it fucking _hurt_ in the deepest part of him to be held in Potter’s arms. No one cared for Draco any longer. There were no surprise ‘thinking of you’ letters. No one to go for drinks on a Friday night. No one to share milestones and memories with. 

These lost, pathetic moments with Potter were all he had. And he could lie to himself about his altruistic motives but he knew the only reason he let Potter into his life was for moments like these. To be held and kissed and cherished. Even if only for a little while.

And he fucking hated himself for being so weak.

“Yes… Draco… please… Damn it, I’m so, so sorry…”

He rolled Potter to his belly and prepared him for a hard fucking. Draco punctuated his words with steady thrusts, “Stop. Doing. Shit. You. Have to. Apologize. For.” He gripped Potter’s hips tighter and increased his pace. “I hate wanting you so fucking much! Damn it all! You feel so - so perfect!” He came then with a soft groan, rocking more gently into Potter as the orgasm subsided. 

Draco’s chin dropped to his chest with a sigh. He ran his hand lightly up and down Potter’s back, then pulled out carefully to sit on his heels. 

“Draco?” 

Potter awkwardly turned under Draco to lay on his back, stroking his still-hard cock. He bit his lip, unsure what to ask of a Draco that seemed unwilling to help him finish. Green eyes followed the path of Draco’s hands down Potter’s body, moving slowly and lightly. 

Potter shivered. “That tickles,” he said softly.

“Tell me you want me,” Draco said thickly. He bent to kiss Potter’s chest, while his hand began to stroke Potter’s cock. “Tell me you need this. Need me.”

“Yes,” Potter cried, pressing his hips up into Draco’s hand. “Yes please. I need you. Want you so much... “ He tugged lightly at Draco’s arm to pull him up for a kiss. Draco stroked him faster, gripping his cock tight. “Draco… yes… just like that…”

Potter came with a harsh cry against Draco’s neck. His hands pressed Draco’s back, bringing them so close, Draco had trouble moving his arm. But no matter, Potter was spent. He nuzzled Draco’s neck and murmured contentedly.

All was forgiven. Again.

Draco slept curled up against Potter, boxing up the fears that threatened his peace of mind.


	3. Ch 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made up the Ligen Powder entirely.

Potter passed the lab on his way to the break room but didn’t look inside for Draco. The efforts Draco had put into compartmentalizing his life were working because when he told himself he didn’t even care, he easily believed it. He didn’t need Potter distracting him at work anyway. There was paperwork to be done.

“Hey Lydia, I’m not feeling that great…” Auror Johnson’s face was scrunched up and he pressed hard against his belly as he came into the lab. “Do you have something for my stomach?”

“Let me see. Just a moment.” Lydia made a great show of rifling through the potions cupboard that no one seemed to realize Draco kept filled. “Just an upset stomach? Anything else?”

“Yeah I’m - “ he whined softly and shook his head, trying to clear it. He opened his mouth to say something else and an oily black bubble popped on his lips.

“Oh fuck!” Draco cried. He shoved at Lydia, who had frozen in shock. “Get Potter. In the break room. Now! Go!” He shoved her again, then summoned two vials from the potions cupboard. “Here, drink this. Now Lydia! Go!”

Finally startled from staring in horror at the black ooze coming from Auror Johnson, Lydia hurried from the lab to find Potter. Johnson shook his head at Draco, and held his hands up to ward him off.

“You have to drink this!”

“I think I’m going to be sick…” 

Draco knocked Johnson to the ground and forced the two potions down his throat. Johnson’s eyes opened wide as he tried to throw Draco off him, but Draco forced his mouth closed to keep him from spitting the potions back out.

“What’s happened - _fuck_!” Potter halted in the doorway with Lydia and half the Aurors behind him.

“He needs to get to St Mungo’s. He’s ingested Ligen Powder. I’ve already given him these.” Draco thrust the two vials, thankfully labeled with their dosages, at Potter. “You have to Apparate him now.” Potter stared at Johnson, his face smeared black and his eyes rolling up in his head. “Potter! Now!”

“The wards - “

“You can do it. Apparate him now. Go!” Draco helped Johnson to his feet and thrust him at Potter.

Potter shook his head, but closed his eyes and in moments was gone. The Ministry alarms began to sound as soon as Potter crashed through the wards, but Robards sent two Aurors to take care of it.

Robards then barked at Draco, “Malfoy! What is going on here?”

Draco scrubbed the black ooze from his hands in the sink. “Ligen Powder. Poison. Did Auror Johnson go out on a raid? Who was he with?”

“Me,” Auror Whittle said, crossing her arms over her chest. “We went to the Wilkes’ house, following a lead.”

“Did he handle anything old and dusty? Or eat anything while he was there?”

Auror Whittle frowned but answered when Robards nodded to her. “We spoke with Mrs Wilkes about some artifacts she may have acquired through questionable means. She did offer us tea and some kind of strawberry tart.”

“Dusted with white powder?”

“Yes,” she said slowly. “Auror Johnson ate two.”

“And you?”

“I’m allergic to strawberries so I didn’t eat mine. Just vanished a portion so I didn’t look rude.”

“Here, you should probably take this anyway.” Draco offered her a vial but she didn’t reach for it. “It’s an antidote. If you didn’t ingest any poison, it’ll just wash itself away harmlessly. But if you did… it’ll stop the black discharge from forming.”

Auror Whittle turned to Robards, “Sir, if I could get your permission to go to St Mungo’s. I’ll let them check me over and also look in on Auror Johnson.”

Robards gave a curt nod and she hurried through the gathered crowd. “Aurors Jones, Whitby, Weasley and Macmillan!” The crowd shuffled and suddenly the four Aurors were standing in the lab. “Take Mrs Wilkes into custody. Do a sweep of the house, see if you can turn up this powder.”

“It’ll be secured carefully,” Draco said before they could leave. “It needs to be kept cool and dry. It’s likely to be in a dark glass bottle, with a wax seal.”

“Very good.” Robards barked, “Rest of you, get back to work!” The crowd dispersed, muttering and frowning. Robards sighed and turned to Draco. “Good work, Malfoy. Quick thinking.” His eyes darted briefly to Lydia. “I’ll let you know when I hear from St Mungo’s.”

Draco nodded as Robards left. Lydia collapsed in her chair, shaking her head and dabbing at her forehead with her handkerchief. With jelly legs, Draco stumbled to his desk to more-or-less do the same. He rested his head on his desk and tried his best to calm his racing heart. Damn, that had been a close one.

Two hours later, Potter returned from St Mungo’s with news. “He’s going to be all right!” Cheers broke out around the department. “They confirmed the Ligen Powder. And praised Malfoy’s quick thinking with the anti-nausea potion to keep it all coming back up. And for having the antidote on hand.” He paused while they whispered amongst themselves about Draco. 

Draco hadn’t missed their suspicious chatter and glares earlier. Afraid of what he might see in their eyes now, Draco kept his gaze on his shoes. The murmurings didn't sound very encouraging. Probably they wondered why he kept an antidote on hand for a poison none of them had ever heard of. Odds were none of them had such a poisoning haunting their nightmares.

“They’ve given him more potions to heal the damage in his stomach and esophagus but expect he’ll make a full recovery.”

Potter nodded and went to his desk. Aurors pressed on all sides to hear it all again. Draco could only hear faint snatches of words, but several times he thought he heard Potter praised for his powerful Apparition to save Auror Johnson with no mention of Draco’s role. 

Draco didn’t relax until Whitby and Weasley returned with Mrs Wilkes in custody. Jones and Macmillan quickly followed with an ornate, wax sealed, glass bottle in an evidence bag. Draco sighed in relief when he saw it, the irrefutable proof someone else poisoned the Auror. He knew they all hoped he’d done it and would be fired at last. 

That night when Potter came over, Draco finally collapsed under the strain of the day. His whole body shivered with the aftershocks. Potter’s hands never stopped moving, calming Draco bit by bit. All the while, Potter whispered praise - you saved him, you’re a hero, I’m so proud of you - and Draco reveled in it, let it wash over him and smooth all his torn, jagged edges. 

\--------

Draco woke slowly to the smell of breakfast cooking. He snuggled deeper into his covers and smiled. When he heard the plates set down on the table, he opened his eyes to see Potter arranging everything just so. For Draco.

He moaned happily through his stretch, then shared a smile with Potter as he pulled his pyjama bottoms on. “Good morning, you.” 

Potter squeezed his hand and pulled him to the table. “Morning! I hope you’re hungry.”

“After last night, I’d have to be.” Draco smiled down at his plate and popped a grape into his mouth. “Where’d you get all this?”

“I woke early and went shopping. Something special to celebrate your success. Yesterday was incredible.”

“Yesterday was terrifying. I hope they have a report on Johnson today.”

“I’m sure he’s fine. Prognosis was good.”

Draco smiled broadly and worked through his breakfast. Potter made a sandwich of his eggs, bacon, and tomatoes, but Draco preferred savouring small bites. The fresh fruit was delicious and Draco made a mental note to buy more. Potter cleaned up the kitchen before returning to his own house to change before work.

\--------

Johnson didn’t return to work for another two days. He came out of the lift calling and waving happily to the other Aurors, a gigantic cake hovering in front of him.

“Malfoy!” he called when he saw Draco’s head poking out of the lab curiously. “Malfoy, my wife made you a cake!” Chatter cut off abruptly and all heads swiveled to Draco.

“Oh, er, thank you,” Draco said, coming out of the lab. He had only a moment to brace himself before Johnson was hugging him tightly.

“The healer at St Mungo’s said if you hadn’t stopped me vomiting with that potion, that shit would have burned straight through my esophagus. I’d be dead if not for you. So Claire made this for you. It’s not much by way of thanks but… ”

“Wow, this is… unexpected,” Draco said carefully. He smiled down at a cake so chocolatey, it was almost black. “I mean, I was just doing my job…”

Johnson beamed and sliced the cake into even pieces with a spell. Someone summoned paper plates from the break room and soon everyone was sharing the rich chocolate cake. Although Johnson stood at his side describing to everyone his hospital stay, Draco felt set apart from them. Their smiles were a little too fixed to be natural. 

Nerves turned the chocolate and icing to paste in his mouth, but Draco smiled and finished his piece nonetheless. Auror Johnson went on about the boring few days he had spent at home. Other Aurors came up to express their relief he was healed, but they avoided Draco as well as they could. Their gratitude could only stretch so far.

But it was at least a beginning.

Later that week, Johnson replaced Draco’s mug when someone ‘accidentally’ broke it. And then his partner, Auror Whittle, cleaned the ink that spilled in Draco’s chair before their departmental meeting. A week later, Auror Stebbins came in with bruised ribs and let Draco apply the ointment instead of waiting for Lydia. That Friday when Draco left early, Auror Johnson gave him a cheerful goodbye and wished him luck with his suppliers. His short walk to the lift included waves from two other Aurors.

And yet, the knot of Junior Aurors that had left Hogwarts with Draco continued to shun him. They didn’t care he had saved an Auror’s life, or even that he (instead of Lydia) brewed the potions all of them consumed. They didn’t acknowledge his hard work, or appreciate the hours he put in at the Ministry. They continued to mumble about him behind his back, with Potter returning to silence in the center of them.

Draco woke early on Friday, as usual and trudged into work. He took three minutes to rest his head on his desk and rage against life in general before plunging right into his first brew of the day. Hours later, when the first Aurors began trickling in, he was finally getting a moment to sit and rest. It wasn’t until nearly ten o’clock that he realized Lydia hadn’t arrived.

Just as he was ready to hunt down Robards for an explanation, a memo zoomed in and landed on his desk. Draco bit back another groan as he read. Lydia was ill and not coming in at all. Well then, good thing he’d gotten to work at such a Merlin-forsaken hour and would now be forced to stay the entire day. Fucking hell!

By two o’clock, Draco was ready to tear his hair out. And also ready to sneak a sip of Wideye Potion to help him get through the rest of the day. It wouldn’t be too difficult to fudge the paperwork for a ‘missing’ dose. Or he could just ask permission. Surely Robards wouldn’t begrudge him a dose.

He was startled from his reverie by Potter’s arrival from the lifts with the afternoon coffee run. The fools must be desperate for their fix, judging by the noise they were making to get at the coffee. 

Draco swore he could hear the grin in Potter’s voice, “Nev, one jasmine tea with a shot of Wit. Tabitha says do your paperwork on time next time.”

“Cheers,” Longbottom said, then Draco heard him knock into a chair on his way back to his desk.

“Terry,” Potter continued, “Double espresso with Wake. Tabitha says she knows this is for you and it’s the last time she’s mixing that for you without a notice from your Healer that your heart hasn’t exploded.”

“Tabitha can mix the drink I pay for and keep her nose out of it!” 

“Why’s this one say ‘Malfoy?’” someone, probably Weasley, asked. Draco’s heart raced as his ears perked up. Potter got him coffee?

“Because I got him a drink too,” Potter replied. “Looks dead on his feet today. Susan, one earl grey, cream and two sugars, no shots.”

“Who cares? Let him get his own drinks.”

“Anna, earl grey, cream and two sugars, shot of Calm. What do you care if I got him a drink? Take this one to Ernie and this one is for - no Seamus, this one’s yours. Here, this one’s for Tobias.”

Draco sat tense while hidden in his lab space, hardly able to believe Potter had actually got him a drink. Should he continue to pretend he couldn’t hear them? Should he go out there? He wasn’t allowed to eat or drink in the lab so he’d have to go out there anyway. 

No need to deliberate further, because Potter poked his head in the lab. “Malfoy. I got you some tea.”

Draco shot to his feet and stared for a moment, completely speechless.

“I’ll just, er, take it to the break room. If you want it. I didn’t know what you wanted, so I got an earl grey with cream and two sugars like Susan’s. Except yours has a shot of Wake in it. I know you’ve got your own potions to make you alert but… Here, you - you seem kind of tired today.” 

Draco cleared his throat. “Yes, thank you. That’s - thank you.”

Potter nodded and lifted the cup to show Draco, then turned to the break room. Draco hurried after him, taking the cup as they walked. Potter paused a moment, unsure if he should follow or return to his desk. He chose the desk, leaving Draco to sit alone in the break room.

Draco only hesitated a moment, trusting that Potter alone would bring him tea that was safe to drink. The first sip was heavenly. So warm and sweet, and the Wideye Potion hit his bloodstream immediately. A surge of energy coursed through him and he happily gulped half the cup. Seconds later, his limbs grew so heavy, he dropped the cup entirely. What the fuck?

With a groan, he dropped his head to the table. Potter spiked his fucking tea! Draco’s stomach churned and bubbled while his blood raced in his veins. He tried to stand but his legs were just as useless as his arms and he fell to the floor with a crash. He tried crawling but couldn’t get his limbs to cooperate. His heart beat frantically in his chest while his brain raced through a million thoughts at once. At the same time, his body grew weaker and less responsive.

“Malfoy?” he heard from a distance. “Draco!” Potter. “Help! We need help in here! Draco, fuck, what happened?”

“Poison…” Draco slurred as he fought to keep his head up. “Bezoar…” Before Potter could move to stand, Draco vomited all over his lap. 

Potter’s shout of surprise was drowned out by laughter from the break room door where several Aurors had gathered at the call for help. A few left but were quickly replaced by other onlookers. Potter vanished the sick from his lap, but it was quickly replaced by another wave. Draco groaned and wiped feebly at his mouth.

“Here, let me.” Potter vanished the rest of the vomit and conjured a cup of water for Draco.

“Fool me once…” Draco mumbled before pulling roughly away from Potter. He slowly crawled to a corner and rested against the wall. With his own wand, he scoured his mouth, then conjured his own cup of water. As he gulped the contents, his stomach settled and his heart began to slow.

“It wasn't me,” Potter said softly, looking sadly at Draco. “I wouldn't - “

“What’s going on here?” Draco sighed in relief when Robards came in. He was the closest thing to an ally he had in this office.

“I don’t know, sir,” Potter said, “I heard a crash, came in, and Dra - Malfoy was on the floor. Said he’d been poisoned. He vomited and now…”

“My tea was spiked,” Draco said softly. He sipped more water and shook his head. “I’ll be fine. I think it was just something wrong with the Wake shot in the tea. It’s fine. I’ll be fine.” He glared over Robards’ shoulder at the Junior Aurors laughing.

“Who did the coffee run today?” Robards asked, looking over the gathered lot. Smiles fell from their faces as they looked to Potter, still kneeling where Draco had fallen.

“Er… I did, sir,” Potter said, rising to his feet. “But I - “

“In my office. Now. The rest of you, get back to work.” He shoved them out of the doorway and turned to Draco. “When you’re well enough to stand, get yourself home. Take tomorrow off too. We’ll call Lydia in if we need anything.”

Draco nodded and avoided Potter’s eye as he followed Robards out of the room. He took a few deep breaths and finished the last of his water. How was he going to make it to his lab, and then to the lift? And, fuck, then home too. 

With slow, careful movements, Draco pulled himself up into a chair. He rested his head in his hands and sat as still as he could while the room spun around him. Not wanting to sit vulnerable in the break room any longer, he made small, deliberate steps towards the lab, leaning heavily on the wall.

Auror Johnson hurried over. “Malfoy, let me give you a hand.”

“You don’t… It’s fine…” Draco shook his head and tried to push the Auror away but his arm was too heavy now that he was using his energy to remain standing. Johnson grabbed his hand and pulled it over his shoulder. He helped Draco down the hall to his chair in the lab. “Thanks,” Draco said quietly. “I’m so sleepy. And wired. It’s bizarre.”

“Is there anything I can help you with?”

Draco looked down at his stained robes and then around the lab. His heart was beginning to race and he worried he might sick up again. He conjured a basin and stared dully into it. “I need… I just need to get home.”

“How’re you doing that? I can Side-Along you.”

Draco wanted to refuse but there was no getting out of there without help. And he definitely wanted out more than he wanted to do it on his own. “Yeah… thanks…” He sat a moment more, and good thing, because he vomited into the basin. “Ugh… I feel like shit. Let’s go before that happens again.”

Auror Johnson moved quickly, supporting Draco as they walked to the lift and then Apparating them down the street from Draco’s flat. The squeeze of it made Draco dry heave again. “Sorry I couldn’t get you closer. I’ve never been to your flat.”

“That’s fine. This is good. You can go now.”

“I’m not leaving you here! Come on, which way?”

Draco pointed and Johnson half dragged him down the street and then up the stairs. He set Draco on the bed and looked around. He reached for the dresser drawers. “Want me to help you put on fresh robes?”

“Thanks, but I just need to sleep it off.”

“Are you sure you should be sleeping?”

Draco nodded, “It’s wearing off. I think the worst of it’s over. I just need a short sleep and then I’ll clean up.”

“Send me an owl. Let me know you’re all right. Or else I’ll come back after work to check.”

“Will do.” Draco was already closing his eyes as Johnson left.

\--------

First thing when he woke, Draco sent his owl with a message for Auror Johnson. Whether he felt fine or not, he didn’t want anyone barging in on him.

He stripped off his robes and took a long shower. Mainly he just stood in the stream of water, but that was close enough. Dried and in fresh pyjamas, he felt himself returning to normal. Whatever had been in his tea was gone.

And now he had a whole evening free ahead of him! Saturday too! It was the closest Draco had come to a holiday since that weekend in France after his house arrest ended two years ago. He changed the sheets on his bed and sat in the middle with a pint of ice cream (because dairy would soak up the last of the poison, not because he was pitiful) and a muggle sci-fi novel about a group of teens obsessed with the media feed implanted in their brains. These teens were idiots and Draco loved every single moment wasted on such fluff.

A soft pop announced the arrival of Harry Potter and the ice cream soured in Draco’s stomach. “Don’t you know it’s rude to just pop into someone’s home like that? You should walk up the stairs and knock.”

“I, er, wasn’t sure. Of my welcome so… Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission.” Slowly he sat on the edge of Draco’s bed.

Draco dropped his spoon into the nearly empty pint and banished it to the kitchen. “Beg forgiveness _again_ , you mean.”

Potter looked down at his lap and picked imaginary lint off his trousers. “The wards let me in,” he said quietly.

“Yeah, well, I know how pointless it would be trying to keep you out that way. Plus, I didn’t really think you’d show up here after poisoning me.”

“That wasn’t me! I swear it! I would never… I was trying to reach out…” Potter hesitantly stroked a finger up Draco’s arm, which Draco shook off with a scowl. “I was trying to be nice.”

“And yet… I vomited and had trouble walking.”

“I’m sorry… One of them sneaked in a sleeping draught. They came forward while Robards was yelling at me in his office. Didn’t want me getting in trouble…”

“Nice, so they weren’t worried about poisoning me, just so long as you don’t get yelled at?”

“No, it’s not like that. It was just a little prank. Supposed to be a joke, you falling asleep at work.”

“A little prank,” Draco deadpanned. “You think mixing a potion to spike your adrenaline and some kind of sleeping draught is just going to be a lark?”

“No it’s - “ Potter broke off with a sigh, “I don’t know. They just… you… It was just supposed to be a little thing. They didn’t know.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure I understand your purpose here. Are you trying to make me feel better, or are you trying to defend them?”

Potter ducked his head and plucked aimlessly at Draco’s duvet. “I don’t know. I just don’t want you to be mad at me. I tried! I tried doing something nice for you and they ruined it!” Potter stood and paced the room. “I don’t know what to do anymore!”

“What did you say? When you found out?”

“What?” Potter tilted his head in confusion but a blush crept up over his cheeks.

“When you found out about the sleeping draught in my tea. What did you say?”

Potter’s eyes dropped to the floor.

“Really? Nothing at all?” Draco stood and crossed his arms. “You want to know what you can do? How about you act like a decent fucking human being and let them know that shit is childish and dangerous? Fucking hell, when did you become such a fucking doormat?”

“Hey it’s not that easy, okay!” Potter yelled back. “Those are my friends and they - if they - “ He shook his head and tugged at his hair. “I’m scared, all right? I became a ‘doormat’ when I started to worry they’d leave me behind because I - because I’m - I’m gay. They may be berks but they’re the closest thing I have to family. And I can’t just - I need them!”

“Scared they won’t like you? You’re Harry fucking Potter! Everyone likes you! You think they’ll turn on you? Won’t speak to you anymore? Won’t invite you round for tea? Or maybe poison it instead?”

“Draco…”

“No, I’m curious. You don’t want to speak up for me because you’re afraid they’ll treat you like they treat me. Is that it?”

Potter rubbed both his hands on his face with a heavy sigh, then crossed his arms, eyes still on the floor.

“Did it ever occur to you that it goes both ways. That if you defended me, even a little, they might start treating me like they treat you?”

Potter gave a harsh bark of laughter, “They won’t forget so easily what you did in school.”

“Yeah? And you think that’s all right? You think I should be held accountable for the rest of my life for the things I did and said when I was fifteen?” Draco laughed bitterly. “You of all people should know the war is over and we aren’t the same anymore.”

“I - I know,” Potter said softly. He crossed to Draco and reached for his hand. “I don’t know how. I’m afraid of - if they find out about us before I’m ready…”

“You don’t have to tell them about us! Don’t you get it? I’m not asking for declarations of love in the Ministry Atrium. I just want - “ Draco gave a defeated sigh, “Stop turning a blind eye. When they trip me in the hall. Steal my quills. Hex me. Refuse my potions. All those stupid little pranks. They won’t stop until someone they respect makes them stop.”

“Robards can - “

“Robards isn’t going to do a damn thing because he’s hoping I’ll quit just as much as they do. It has to be you. You just have to try.”

Potter nodded. Slowly his arms circled Draco for a hug. “I can try… “ When Draco didn’t push him away, he settled in closer to rest his head on Draco’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.” He sighed in relief when Draco’s arms came around him.

“Just - stop apologizing and try and do better.”

“I will. I promise.” He nuzzled closer to Draco’s neck and brushed a light kiss along his collarbone. “Erm, Ron and Hermione are going to her parents’ house this weekend.” He looked at Draco hopefully, “Want to come to mine?”

“Potter… “ 

“Come on, I heard Robards give you the day off tomorrow. We can spend it lounging naked in my bed. Maybe go flying or whatever. Please… Don’t you deserve a break?”

“No, I’m still mad at you.” He _was_ still annoyed, but could already feel his body melting in response to Potter’s caresses. 

“All right, but can’t you be mad over pancakes and card games, instead of here where you’ll just wallow in it?”

Draco bit back a smile. “Why are you so ridiculous?”

“To cover my faults. Is that a yes? Forgive me one more time?”

“Ugh, fine, you big baby. But only because I can’t remember the last time I went flying.”

Potter tackled him to the bed and rained kisses over his face. Draco smiled and shook his head. He was a ridiculous sap and Potter was going to trample him to pieces one day. He threw some clothes in a bag and held his arm out for Potter. “Take us away.”

They landed in the middle of Potter’s bedroom and he wasted no time in removing Draco’s shirt. As he kissed Draco, his hands coasted down Draco’s back to cup his arse. “You are so gorgeous,” Potter murmured against his lips. He pushed Draco to the bed and straddled his lap. Cradling Draco’s cheeks, Potter murmured, “I love having you here in my bed. Think about it all the time.”

Draco returned the kiss eagerly and refrained from reminding Potter it was his own secrecy that kept them apart. He unbuttoned Potter’s shirt and pushed it down his shoulders. A soft moan cut off sharply when they both heard a voice.

“Harry?”

Weasley. What was he doing here?

Potter’s eyes widened in alarm. “Oh fuck,” he hissed. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_. You have to get up.”

“But I - “ Draco’s words were lost when Potter covered his mouth with his hand.

“Sh! He’ll hear you!”

“Harry!” Weasley called from the stairwell. “Are you here? Hermione’s dinner ran long and we missed the portkey. Harry!”

“You have to hide!” Potter yanked Draco up and pulled him to the small closet. “In here. Just a minute until he goes.”

Draco’s heart rate spiked and his eyes widened. “I can’t go in there! You - I can’t - let me - “

“You have to,” he whispered. He turned his head to yell at the door, “Coming, Ron!”

Heavy footsteps were coming down the hall when Potter gave Draco a harsh shove into the closet. Several hangers snapped off as Draco’s body forced the clothes against the back wall. Robes and trousers fell to the floor, tangling around his legs and knocking him further off balance. He tripped over some shoes and wasn’t steady enough to stop the door closing.

Enclosed in the tight, black space, the adrenaline in Draco’s body burned in his veins and made his stomach churn. He screamed and pounded on the door, but the sound died against whatever spells Potter had placed on it. Draco continued to scream, because the alternative was letting the darkness consume him. 

The air pressed in all around and it got harder to take a breath. What little air there was burned in his lungs and choked him. It was sour and hot, and soon smelled of ash and smoke. It was burning, the Cabinet. Consumed by fire. Burning. And he was going to burn with it. Lost, just like Vincent. There was no one to save him, no hero on a broom. No safe place, no way home.

Home.

He could go home. He _could_. He was made of magic and could Apparate. He didn’t have to burn. Home.

The image wavered in his mind. Home. Safety. His mother’s arms. With little room to turn, he still managed to Apparate before the Cabinet could devour him.

\--------

Draco stared dully at the mediwitch giving him his discharge instructions. He didn’t hear a word she said but nodded when she paused so she would get on with it. Finally she offered him a form to sign and helped him off the hospital bed. Hilly, the little house elf his parents had sent from the Manor, took hold of his hand and Apparated them from St Mungo’s to his flat.

Thankfully they landed close enough to the bed Draco didn’t have far to stumble before landing on it. “Close the wards,” he said weakly. “No one gets in.” He was asleep within moments.

Hilly shook him awake with a soft, “Sorry, sir, but it’s time for potions.”

Draco groaned and slowly rose to a sitting position. He gingerly held his side as he shifted on the bed. “Thank you, Hilly.” Before Draco could ask about dinner, Hilly set a tray next to him with a bowl of broth, a thin slice of bread, a glass of water, and two small cups with his doses of medicine. He transfigured the bed to a sofa and leaned against the back cushions with a sigh.

Halfway through his bowl of soup, a heavy knock sounded at the door. Hilly frowned and tilted her head, as though listening. “It’s Harry Potter, sir! What is he doing here?”

Draco rolled his eyes and set his bowl aside. “He probably set some sort of alarm to let him know when I got home. Might as well let him in. If he’s kept waiting too long, he’ll break the wards.”

Hilly grumbled under her breath but opened the door anyway, standing behind it in case Draco’s neighbor happened by. “You is disturbing sir with that racket!” she scolded Potter as he came in. Potter looked surprised to see her, but quickly turned his attention to Draco.

“You’re here. Are you - “ he broke off at his first sight of Draco. Although he hadn’t had a chance to check his appearance, Draco imagined three days in St Mungo’s had left him looking rather worn. His short hair felt matted and greasy, despite the cleaning charms, and his eyes were sore enough they were probably bloodshot. “Draco… what happened? I opened the closet and you were gone and - and nothing. No word, flat empty… I - “

“You worried? For me?” Draco sneered. “Well, as you can see, I’m right as rain. Now get the fuck out.”

“Draco, please… let me - “

“I’m not letting you do anything ever again!” He winced and held tight to his side. Lowering his voice he continued, “Whatever we had is gone. Done. I don’t want you here anymore.”

“Draco - “

“Sir is needing his rest! Peace and quiet is what the Healer says and you is being too loud!” Hilly pushed Potter towards the door.

“Healer? But Draco…”

“Just go. And don’t come back.” With a final shove, Hilly got Potter out the door, slamming it behind him.

Over the next two days, Hilly helped Draco to package and mail the orders for potions he had ready. He sent owls to the remaining customers to let them know of his illness and subsequent delay in filling their orders. It would probably be another few days before he could brew the more complicated potions he sold.

Hilly helped him get to work at the Ministry the next morning and promised to pick him up at two o’clock for an early end to his work day. Draco had tried to tell her he was fine to work the whole day but she wouldn’t listen. Two o’clock and no later.

He walked slowly from the lift, with his head down to avoid eye contact in case Potter was around. But he was hailed by Auror Johnson. “Malfoy! You’re back! Robards said you’d taken a few personal days. Everything all right? Did you have another reaction to the tea?”

“Er, no. I had a - a another mishap but I’m fine now.” Draco gave a smile he feared was more of a grimace and shuffled towards the lab again.

“You’re looking a little pale,” Auror Whittle interrupted. “Are you sure you’re all right to work?”

“It's fine. Thank you. I’ll have to put off brewing another day or so but I can certainly catch up on paperwork.”

“Well, if you need anything,” Johnson asked, “let me know.”

Draco nodded and turned back to his lab. His tiny glimpse of the office hadn’t revealed Potter, and Draco sighed in relief when only Lydia was in the lab.

“You look terrible,” she said by way of greeting.

“I feel terrible,” Draco replied. He sat at his desk and rested his head in his hands. Maybe it was too soon to be back after all. “I’m leaving early.”

She made a noncommittal sound in response and turned back to her magazine. Draco searched through his inbox for anything that needed his urgent attention. It was slow going, but he managed to work through several memos and information requests to reduce the pile significantly.

Inwardly he groaned when Potter came in to drop off a sample. For once, Draco was glad of Potter’s skittishness around other people because it would prevent them from having a drawn out conversation. There was nowhere to run, hide, or hex while stuck here at the Ministry.

“Malfoy,” Potter said quietly. He fiddled with the vial before setting it on the very edge of the desk. He cleared his throat. “Do you think you can run an analysis on this for me? Maybe get me a report today… like you - you did that one time?” He peered down at Draco’s face, trying to catch his eye. “In case I - I have questions?”

Ha! As if Draco was going to stay late for this imbecile ever again. “I’m strictly doing deskwork today. Give it to Lydia.”

Potter looked over at Lydia, smiling and holding her hand out. “I’d be happy to help you dear. What are you looking for?”

With a last glance at Draco, Potter crossed to Lydia’s desk and mumbled something about his case. She nodded and took a few notes, and assured him it would be ready by that afternoon. Potter paused by Draco’s desk on the way out the door, but Auror Jones came in and Potter ran like a frightened rabbit.

Draco’s grip tightened enough to snap his quill. Fucking Potter and his fake concern. How dare he think he could talk his way out of this one. Bat his hideous green eyes and flash that insipid smile and Draco would forgive him again. Not likely, not ever.

Hilly had packed him a lunch of mashed potatoes and yogurt (now that he had been upgraded to soft foods), but he was too tired to make the trek from the lab to the break room down the hall. He was contemplating some transfiguration to make his chair suitable for napping when Auror Stebbins came in, his heavy black brows drawn in concern.

“Wow, you look awful!”

“Thanks,” Malfoy deadpanned.

Stebbins grunted. “What happened to you? Robards wouldn’t say anything except you needed a few personal days.” 

“I got stuck and tried to Apparate out. It didn’t go well.”

“Ah, splinching,” he said, nodding in understanding. “I was splinched once. About three months after getting my license. But it was just a tiny thing on my little toe. Up and about in no time.”

“This was a little more complicated…” Draco sighed and shook his head. “I had some internal damage. It’s fixed now, but I’m still recovering.”

“Well if you need anything, let us know.”

“Thanks but I’ll manage.”

Draco knew it would take him a while to make it to the Atrium to meet Hilly so he left the lab early. Johnson saw him shuffling along and offered him an arm to lean on. Inside the lift, he said, “Stebbins said it was a splinching. Bad, then?”

“Yeah, I muddied the destination. Had a splinch in my intestines. Some internal bleeding and sepsis. The rest of it… Well, I was, er, trying to Apparate to Malfoy Manor. But the wards there don’t accept me any longer so I was bounced out. Literally. I broke my hip bone when I landed outside the gates.”

Johnson’s horrified face made Draco laugh. “It’s not a laughing matter, Malfoy! What are you even doing here?”

“I have to work. They’re looking for any reason to fire me and too many absences would be an easy one. Besides, it’s just tomorrow, and then I’ll rest up for the weekend. I’ll be fine.”

The lift dinged and Johnson followed him to the fountain, where Hilly was waiting.

“If you need anything…”

“I’ll let you know,” Draco smiled. “But don’t worry, I have an excellent house elf looking after me.” He gave Hilly a small pat on her shoulder, and she pulled her ears down around her face. “Hilly’s been keeping me full of soup and all my assigned potions. I’ll be back to normal in no time.”

Johnson smiled and wished him well before returning to the lift. Draco sighed in relief when Hilly landed him right by his bed. He couldn’t keep his eyes open even one moment longer.

Draco stretched awake and felt a twinge in his side. But definitely not as sharp a pain as yesterday. Hopefully in another day or two, he’d be fully healed. Or at least not eating soup and boring soft foods anymore. He could handle the pain while walking if it meant he could eat cake. Cake was soft, right? Not soft enough, according to Hilly’s list from the Healers. Clearly whoever made that list didn’t have a sweet tooth.

He was just coming back from the bathroom when a knock sounded. “I’ll get it, Hilly.” Only one person ever came to visit and Draco would have an easier time kicking him out than Hilly would.

Potter sighed in relief when Draco opened the door, but frowned when he didn’t stand back to let him in. “I heard. About the splinching and - and the Manor.” Draco scowled and made a mental note to never tell Johnson another damn thing. “I - I brought you soup.” He held out a bag with a scent that made Draco’s stomach twist.

Draco grabbed the bag and opened it to double check. Yes. Cream of tomato soup. And crusty garlic bread covered in cheese. Draco set the bag on the floor, pulled his wand, then cast a spell to set fire to the bag. Hilly ran in squealing and doused the fire with a cup of water, leaving behind soggy, charred bread and a singed container of soup.

“What is sir doing, starting a fire in here? Hilly will be given clothes if Hilly lets sir burn himself up!” 

“I’m sorry, Hilly. Would you mind making me some tea? Potter won’t be staying.” Draco said the last with a heavy glare for Potter. Hilly wandered off muttering to herself. “I thought I told you not to come back.”

“I wanted to apologize - “

“Again.”

“And I thought maybe we could talk over dinner.”

Draco shook his head. “We don’t have anything to talk about. We had a nice run but it’s over. All you really want is someone to fuck and you can find that easily enough if you bother trying even just a tiny bit. I’m not available anymore.”

“Draco, please let me explain…”

“Explain what? That you’re still scared about coming out? I’ve told you before that I don’t care! You don’t have to come out for me, all right? Or is it that you can’t even pretend to be nice to me in public? Not sure I buy that, but fine. At this point, though, I’d settle for you simply acknowledging that you are a ball of panic and can't be trusted in an emergency.”

“We were half naked! And it was just a minute or two. Just until I got rid of Ron. I didn't think - “

“Didn't think maybe I didn't want to hide in there? That I had a wand and could have Apparated to my flat without him knowing? Or for fuck’s sake, that you could have gone to meet him in the hall and he didn't need to see your room at all?”

“Well - but - I - “

“Fuck you and whatever excuse you're trying to come up with now! You make me sick, you selfish arse! You don’t know a single thing about me. All you care about is a pretty face and I’m not going to be a pretty face for you anymore!”

“I care about you! And I - I know you!”

“Do you? Two months we've been fucking and I bet you can't name even ten things you know about me. No? I’ll help you start a list. Number one, I fucking _hate_ tomatoes, you absolute _prick_!” Draco emphasized his last words by throwing the container of soup at Potter, splattering him completely.

Potter screeched and swiped soup from his face. He turned rage-filled eyes to Draco.

“Number two, I have severe claustrophobia because number three, half of my nightmares are of Fiendfyre burning me to death while trapped in the Vanishing Cabinet.”

Rage turned to dread as Potter shook his head. “Draco…” he whispered.

“Don’t ‘Draco’ me, all right? I’ve had enough of you. Go home and do some fucking soul searching. Admit to yourself that you hate Draco Malfoy and all you really need is a fuck toy for the evening. Then get yourself a rent boy and leave me the fuck alone!”

Draco slammed the door and summoned Hilly to help him build up stronger wards. Although he knew there was nothing that could really keep Potter out, it would at least give the idiot pause to consider his actions.

Thankfully, he didn’t return.


	4. Ch 4

On Monday morning, Hilly Apparated Draco to St Mungo’s so he could be cleared for regular work again. He was given an official discharge from treatment that he could present to the Apparition Testing Centre in two weeks’ time to renew his apparition license.

In the Ministry Atrium, Hilly said a tearful goodbye and returned to the Manor for good. Draco was fully healed and ready to resume his regular activities and so his parents had recalled the elf. He was going to miss listening to Hilly mumbling to herself as she cooked and cleaned. It felt like home for a while.

The DMLE was tense for the entire week. No one fully understood his splinching injury so inter-office gossip linked it to the spiked tea. Before that incident, the Senior Aurors had seen the pranks against Draco as some sort of playful teasing of a disliked classmate. But now, they took an active role in punishing the Junior Aurors.

On Thursday, when Draco’s shoes were stuck to the floor with a charm and he had to go barefoot for several hours, the Junior Aurors were assigned various stakeouts around the city of buildings that saw no foot traffic whatsoever. They were only permitted to return, weary and frozen from the December snowfall, when Draco’s shoes were finally freed. 

No one spoke to Draco, but he knew they blamed him for the useless assignment. On Friday, he made his way to the break room for lunch when most of the Junior Aurors were already gone. He ignored Potter and Longbottom sitting at a table and went straight for his mug and box of tea. 

“What’s this?” Pulling the mug down, he found a long, thin box inside.

“Oh! A gift!” Longbottom said, eyes widening in surprise. “Who would leave you a gift? Do you think it was a mistake?”

“Probably,” Draco said, dumping it out of his mug onto the table without touching it in case the packaging was hexed. He turned away to get his box of tea.

Potter lifted the purple box and turned it in his hands. “Everyone knows that mug is yours. It’s probably meant for you.” He offered it to Draco with a blank face.

Draco was proud of himself for restraining his eye roll so well. He snatched the box back and opened the purple wrapping. Inside was a line of four delicate truffles, handmade and decorated with gentle swirls of chocolate. A card bearing the name of a French chocolatier fluttered out in a spray of magical confetti that dissolved as it fell.

“Oh wow!” Longbottom exclaimed. “Who do you think sent them?”

“No idea,” Draco said drily. He flicked his wand at the box, vanishing all of it.

Longbottom squealed in shock. “What did you do that for? Those things were probably two or three galleons a piece!”

“Probably closer to five,” Potter said, looking a little pale.

“Yes, well, for all I know they were spiked with a sleeping draught while someone wasn’t looking.” Without waiting for a response, Draco took his mug and tea to the locker room to drink alone, as usual.

The following Friday was the office Christmas party. Draco had been dreading this event all year. There was a Secret Santa exchange that he loathed, but everyone was made to participate. Last year his ‘gift’ had melted into a sticky goo all over his lap while he waited his turn to open it. This year was bound to be worse, with the way everyone was on edge.

Surreptitiously he checked it for hexes while the circle’s attention was elsewhere but came up with nothing. When it came time for him to open the quaffle-sized box, he noticed the way Whitby and Jones on either side of him leaned away and let a hand rest on their wands. He peeled the wrapping paper off and slowly opened the lid of the box. 

What felt like a thousand scarab beetles came rushing out over the edges, over his lap, and onto the floor. Everyone shrieked and knocked their chairs back to get out of the way. Whitby and Jones began vanishing the insects, and others immediately followed suit. 

Robards bellowed at Weasley, Macmillan, and Finnigan, all laughing too hard to help vanish beetles, sending them to his office. He also summoned all the Secret Santa gifts into a conjured box and banished the box to no-one-knew-where. “Christmas is canceled. Enjoy your holiday.” He stomped into his office after the three Junior Aurors and slammed the door.

Draco didn’t wait around to help either. He ran down the hall to the locker room and tore buttons from his robes in his haste to strip. Shaking under the shower spray, he scrubbed at every centimetre of skin he could reach. Forty minutes later his skin was lobster red and the occasional scratch might need a spell to heal, but he could no longer feel beetles crawling on him. 

Wrapped in a towel, he found Potter and Longbottom waiting in the changing area. Potter gawked at Draco’s raw skin. Longbottom, looking a little queasy, held out a set of folded robes. “These are - erm, your robes - they’re torn. But these should fit you. You’re nearly Harry’s size.” Potter scowled, as though he hadn’t expected Longbottom to mention him.

Draco’s face soured, “Wow, someone came prepared. Almost like someone knew that would happen and did absolutely nothing to stop it.”

“Well,” Longbottom said with a deep flush, “maybe not that, exactly. But after last year we thought…”

“Right, I guess I have only myself to blame for not being more prepared with a second set of my own robes.” Draco summoned his lost buttons, then attached them with a hasty spell to his robe. He pulled the robe over his head, then slipped the towel off from below once he was covered. “I’ll try to remember for next year.”

For the rest of the afternoon, he swore he saw beetles out of the corner of his eye. It reminded him too much of his brief stay in Azkaban. He could go whole lifetimes without experiencing another delousing spell again.

That evening, he trimmed his hair close to the scalp so bugs would be easier to wash away. He showered again, then treated the raw skin with a special ointment. He wandered the flat, laying fresh charms to repel insects. And while he was at it, he sprayed the concoction he’d developed in case the charm failed. As a final measure, he set a basin on the floor and summoned all the insects in the flat to it. He breathed a sigh of relief when nothing came flying to the basin but still had a hard time falling asleep.

Another vigorous shower in the morning and a large sip of Calming Draught fixed the last of his anxiety. He carried a flask of his insect repellent to the Ministry and sprayed it liberally around the lab. Confident he was in an insect-free zone, he set to work on the day’s brewing.

Although the party had been a disaster, the week that followed was a good one. Most of the Aurors were on holiday for Christmas, making a much lighter workload for Draco. He still had to cover all the hours, especially since Lydia was also taking a holiday that week, but there wasn’t as much to be done each day.

Draco groaned when Potter came into the lab. Because of course he would be one of the Junior Aurors covering the DMLE. Potter halted in the doorway in shock.

“What happened to your hair?”

Draco shook his head, “I cut it. What do you want, Auror Potter?”

Potter looked behind him at the empty cubicles. “Aurors Stebbins, Macmillan, and Longbottom went to investigate a lead and I thought I could… maybe talk with you.”

“I’m not interested in whatever you have to say.”

“I did what you asked. Soul searching and all.” Potter sat at Lydia’s desk, but Draco continued to ignore him. “And I didn’t come after you because you’re fit or whatever.” He paused to see what impact his words would have. Draco continued chopping his daisy roots. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Once I found out you were - you know, gay.”

Draco’s knife slowed, but he still couldn’t turn or acknowledge Potter. He heard the scrape of Potter’s chair and his steps as he came to stand behind Draco.

“I wanted - you were so brave. And - and I wanted to be like that.” Potter waited and when Draco only stood frozen, he finally turned to the door.

“If you thought that - “ Draco dropped his knife on the table and turned to Potter with a scowl. “If you really thought that I was so brave for coming out and so fascinated about me, why didn’t you listen? Why didn’t you care when I tried to tell you? But no, every time I brought it up - mentioned my parents, or the war, or anything personal at all, you soured and changed the subject.” Potter chewed his lip and dropped his eyes. Draco shook his head and turned back to his roots. “You’re still trying to bullshit me, Potter. Try harder next time.”

After the New Year, someone hexed Draco’s chair so that it shrunk to child size every time he tried to sit in it. The Junior Aurors were made to sit through a three hour orientation given by an ancient wizard on the proper way to fill out all of the eight different acquisition forms for office supplies. A set of eagle feather quills was left on Draco’s desk shortly after, but Draco gave it to Lydia. He felt a sick glee watching Potter’s face fall when he noticed Lydia using them.

When Draco was inundated with hundreds of useless memos that he had to sort through in case real work was hidden inside the pile, the Junior Aurors were made to review boxes and boxes of cold case files in case a clue might arise to solve them. A small abstract painting in shades of grey was left on the corner of his desk but Draco transformed the canvas to glass and made sure Potter was watching when he threw it against the wall to shatter.

In early February, Draco’s wand was hexed to backfire on his next spell, which unfortunately was over a large cauldron full of a potion the color and consistency of honey. The sticky liquid exploded over the entire lab. Robards confiscated the Junior Aurors’ wands and made them clean the mess by muggle methods.

Draco, returning from the locker room showers, in a clean robe of his own, paused to listen outside the lab door.

“Fucking Malfoy. I’m getting him back for this!” he heard Weasley grumble.

“What did you just say?” Potter asked. There was a thunk, like he’d dropped his scrub brush in a bucket.

“Malfoy. That git. This is his fault, us scrubbing like first years in detention.”

Potter growled, “His fault? Have you lost your mind?” It sounded as though Potter kicked his bucket. “His fault? Not you, for suggesting we hex his wand? Not Terry, for finding the spell? Or Seamus for casting it?”

“Oh come on… you know he had it coming!”

“I cannot believe you! You know what? I’m done with you fucking twits! Next time I hear you planning this shit, I’m going straight to Robards!”

“You wouldn’t!”

“You bet your arse I will!” Draco heard the clatter of brush and bucket again. “I’m sick of getting punished like first years! We’re turning twenty-three this year! Shouldn’t we start acting like grown-ups?” 

There were several more shouts of protest. “Oi!” Finnigan called. “If you can vanish this mess wandlessly, why don’t you do the whole room? Get us out of here!”

“No! I did my part, now you can do the rest. You deserve it!” Potter stomped out of the lab, stopping short when he saw Draco lingering outside. “I’m sorry,” he said gruffly.

Draco nodded, scared to say anything with the others listening inside the lab.

“It ends here,” Potter said, glancing over his shoulder at his glaring friends. “We’re going to play nice from now on.”

“Thank you,” Draco said quietly. Potter turned on his heel and headed off to his desk. Anxiety surged in Draco. He knew this was far from over, that the Junior Aurors would never give up so easily. But finally Potter had offered a gift of value to Draco.

Draco wasn’t surprised to find Potter on his doorstep that evening. His first instinct was to slam the door in his face, but he was curious enough to hold the door open. Perhaps Potter had a real apology to share.

“I lied. Before.”

Draco sighed. “Come in anyway, I guess.” He sat at the kitchen table and indicated Potter take the seat across from him.

“There was no way anyone in the wizarding community could possibly miss it when your father disowned you.”

“Ah, yes. Well, that did seem odd you didn’t know.” Draco crossed his arms and waited, knowing nerves would make Potter talk faster, eager as he was to fill silence.

“For weeks, months, I couldn’t get it out of my head. And I hated you so much.” Potter dropped his head in his hands for a moment, then leaned back in his chair to sigh at the ceiling. “I heard every ugly thing my relatives ever said about - about people like you. Only… only they were saying it at me and - “ Potter pressed his lips together and shook his head. 

“And you were jealous? That I was free and you were still trapped in your head?”

“Something like that. I hated so much that you - you of all people - were braver than I was. I spent months hating myself and trying to - to fix things. And I became obsessed with you all over again.”

“And yet? When you had the chance to learn about me?”

“I don’t know. Somewhere along the way, I separated the ‘you’ from before from the ‘you’ you are now. You could be anyone. At the Ministry each day, working a regular job just like the rest of us. But every time you mentioned your father, or when he disowned you… it just brought it back that the - the man I was - _with_ \- was a Death Eater.”

Draco’s lip curled, “You mean reformed Death Eater.”

“Yeah.” Potter ruffled his hair. “We - we had fun together. And I know I ruined it all but… I miss you - “ At Draco’s eye roll, he scowled. “I’m not talking about the sex. I mean you! I miss you and your stupid cereal and your singing in the shower and the way you coo at Biscuit when she goes out with the packages and how you - you helped me feel okay with the way I am.”

Potter reached across the table, palm up, and Draco reluctantly offered his hand. Potter squeezed his fingers tight. “I’m sorry. Truly sorry for the way I’ve acted. And I’m turning over a new leaf. I was serious before - it ends now. No more pranks and hexes. No more ugly words. We’re not going to be friends overnight, but we can at least not be enemies anymore.”

“They won’t give up so easily.”

“I know. But it’s a start.” Potter stood and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m going to do better and hopefully they’ll follow suit.”

Draco was skeptical but he gave a hesitant nod anyway. Potter smiled in return, then stood to Disapparate with a small pop.

\--------

True to his word, Potter kept an eye on his friends. Twice that week Draco saw him bursting into Robards’s office with mysterious items in his hands, and both times the Junior Aurors were treated to a loud lecture on working as a team to fight the threats outside, not creating new ones inside.

Longbottom, just as eager to end the petty squabbling, quickly followed Potter’s lead. He nodded hello to Draco or held the lift doors open for him. Twice he made room for Draco at the table in the break room, although he didn’t speak while they ate. And once, Draco was sure he saw Longbottom deflect a tripping jinx while Draco carried a box of knotgrass into the lab.

Potter stopped by Draco’s flat again that evening with a shopping bag in hand. “I thought I’d cook for us. If you haven’t already eaten.”

“No, I haven’t,” Draco said, pausing only a moment before letting Potter in.

“Oh good. I thought we’d keep it simple. Some pasta, and I have a jar of alfredo sauce. Small salad. No tomatoes,” he said with a sheepish grin.

Draco gave him a tight smile and sat at the table to watch Potter fumble around the small kitchen area. He opened cabinets and mumbled to himself, until he’d located the correct pots and stirring spoons. 

“Where’s the house elf? What was her name?” Potter set the pot on the stove then waved his hand over it to fill it with water.

“Hilly. She’s back at the Manor now.”

“Oh,” he said softly, darting his eyes to Draco. “I wondered where she came from.”

“St Mungo’s wouldn’t let me leave unless I had someone to look after me. My parents, of course, didn’t want me home so they sent an elf for the week.”

Potter popped open the sauce and poured it into a small saucepan. He set it aside and then sat at the table with Draco.

“Did you really want to go back there? Wasn’t that hard for you?”

As far as Draco could remember, that was the first question Potter had asked about his personal life. He wasn’t sure how to answer. Was Potter only asking to soften him? Did he really care?

Seeing the indecision, Potter said, “I’m tired of not knowing these things about you. Tell me… please?”

Feeling the flush rising on his cheeks, Draco cursed his pale skin. “That day I was splinched, I was trying to get to safety. To home. And… even after every hellish thing that happened in that place, and the house arrest and my father… it was still my home. Only they won’t let me in any longer. So yes, I did want to go back, even if it hurt.”

Potter reached for his hand, and Draco offered it more freely this time. His voice hitched as he continued, “I bounced out by the gates, in agony from the splinching, and my hip snapped when I landed. Hilly came to check, took one look at me, and Apparated us to St Mungo’s. I’m not sure she had permission for that. Next time I saw her, she had some singe marks on her ears.”

“You think they didn’t even want to take you to St Mungo’s?” Potter squeezed his fingers, then stood to finish making dinner.

“I don’t know,” Draco said softly, wiping at his eyes. “But I know she was punished between taking me there and picking me up three days later. Might have been something else entirely… burned roast, or shoddy laundering...”

“But you think it was because of you?”

“Maybe it’s melodramatic, imagining my parents would rather I were dead than gay. But if it hadn’t been for Hilly’s quick action, I would have died.”

Potter chopped and stirred, lost in thought. He finally set down two bowls of salad and two plates of pasta. “I’m sorry that I shoved you in my closet.”

“I know, you’ve said.”

“But I want to say it again. I want you to know I mean it and I recognize my part in it all. I’m sorry I panicked and I’m sorry you were splinched because of me. And I’m sorry I couldn’t take care of you when you needed it.”

Draco only nodded, feeling his voice might quaver too much if he spoke. He ate his pasta with small bites and let Potter take his hand again. When the food was gone, Potter did all the dishes and packed the remaining food away. 

“Thank you for letting me make dinner. Can we do it again next Thursday?”

“Yes. I think I’d like that.”

Potter gave him a wide smile and stepped back to Disapparate. Draco sighed. What was he getting himself back into? With a weary shake of his head, he went to his lab for the evening.

\-------

Potter came the next Thursday to make chicken, rice, and roasted vegetables. He spoke about his summer after the war, and the hard time he had coping with survivor’s guilt and the unmoored feeling of his life’s work being over. Then he asked Draco to share about his three months in Azkaban awaiting trial - the cruel guards, the weekly delousing, the near starvation, the shattering cold even in the summer months.

The following Thursday Potter brought pork chops and roasted potatoes. He talked about the hard time he had connecting with Ginny and how he threw himself into his Auror training to avoid her. It was a relief, he said, when she left to join the Holyhead Harpies and they could stop pretending it was going to work between them. Draco told him about working on his Potions Mastery during his house arrest, spending night and day brewing to finish in half the time. 

At work, things became tense with everyone waiting for another explosion of some kind, both figurative and literal. For reasons he did not explain to Draco, Robards made the decision to have Lydia and Draco take turns being on call on Saturdays. Draco doubted that Lydia was ever called in on her day, but he didn’t care. Having two Saturdays a month off meant he didn’t have to come in at five in the morning on Fridays anymore. Which meant he didn’t have to leave early Friday afternoons and endure grumblings from the Junior Aurors. Perhaps that was reason enough to change the schedule.

The Junior Aurors were now fully divided. Macmillan, always one to pompously follow Potter’s whims, fell into step with Longbottom. But Weasley, Finnigan, and Boot remained aloof and sullen. Robards and the other Senior Aurors did their best to keep those three in particular away from Draco whenever possible. But in such a small department their paths still crossed and clashed.

As the tension mounted, Draco became cranky and irritable. His patience with Lydia wore thin on the last Thursday in March when she felt the need to yet again lecture Draco on his brewing methods for a potion to sharpen eyesight. She nagged at him all the way to the Atrium before flooing home. He was so tired, he decided to forgo the illusion he was a muggle and just Apparate straight to his flat. He couldn’t bear it if he ran into his neighbor and had to make small talk with her.

Dejected and sore, he threw himself onto the sofa and checked his watch. Potter would be arriving at any minute with dinner, and food would make him feel better. A restless anxiety began to build as he pottered around his flat. He went to the bathroom. Sorted through his customer invoices. Gave Biscuit a little pat and cleaned below her roost. Checked his watch again. 

Where the fuck was Potter? Ugh, Draco thought, I’m waiting like a pathetic crup _again_. How did they once again get to the point where Draco was left waiting and Potter waltzed in as he pleased?

As this thought bloomed in his mind, Potter knocked at the door. 

“Where the fuck have you been?” Draco asked, without stepping back to let Potter in.

“Yeah, sorry, I had trouble with Ron. He’s suspicious about where I’ve been on Thursdays. So I hope take-away is all right for tonight.”

Draco let Potter in and slammed the door behind him. “And you couldn’t let me know you’d be late? Or if you were arriving at all? You think I just want to wait here, wondering if and when you’re showing up?”

“Of course I’d be here,” Potter said. He set the bag on the table and came back to Draco, running his hands down Draco’s arms to take his hands. “Thursday is our day, right?”

Draco jerked his hands back and crossed his arms. “Well I don’t know, since we seem to be operating, once again, on a schedule only you can see.”

Potter crossed his arms too and scowled, “What does that mean?”

“It means I don’t want to be waiting around wondering if you’re gracing my flat with your presence! It’s just like before all over again!”

Potter’s eyes widened, “What’s like before? Did something happen?”

“Yes! You happened. Coming in here late, like I haven’t been waiting. I hate that - feeling like a crup with tails wagging, waiting for his master to come home.”

“I don’t understand.” Potter reached for Draco again, but Draco smacked his hands away.

“Before. I didn’t know when to expect you and sometimes you didn’t come at all. I wasted so much time and sleep and - just _waiting_. I deserve better!”

“Oh Draco, of course you do! But you had to know I was coming today, right? I’ve been here every Thursday…” He stepped close again and tried to give Draco a hug.

“Shove off!” Draco said, pushing Potter away. “Don’t touch me right now!”

“What is this?” Potter asked. “All this anger because I’m a little later than you thought? It’s not like it’s been hours, or anything. I’m only like twenty minutes later than last week.”

“I don’t know, all right?” Draco scrubbed at his hair and sighed, “All I know is I’m walking around the flat wondering what time you’ll be here and it just reminded me too much of when I used to wait and - and hope. And it was such a long fucking day…”

“Draco…” This time when Potter tried to hug him, Draco let him. He rested his head on Draco’s shoulder and rocked them gently.

“What is this?” Draco said softly. “What are we doing?”

“Becoming friends?”

“Why?”

Potter nuzzled lightly at his neck. “Because I like you. And I want to be your friend.” He kissed just below Draco’s ear, then shouted, “Hey!” when Draco shoved him back so hard he stumbled to the ground.

“For sex? Is that what this is about? You’re hoping we’ll start fucking again? Was it so hard to find someone else to warm your bed?”

“That’s not - Draco - I was - “ Potter shook his head. “This isn’t about sex, Draco. But you - we - had something special when things were good and I can’t just forget it. But if you don’t want me anymore, that’s fine. We can still be friends, can’t we?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh.” Potter’s face shuttered. “Okay.” He nodded absently as he stood, biting at his lip with eyes on the floor. “Erm… I think I should maybe just go then. Can we - can I come tomorrow instead? When we’ve had time to think about it?”

“I don’t know.” Draco crossed his arms, his face blank and still.

Potter pressed his lips together and nodded. “Er… well… “ He ran his hands through his hair and down his face. “Okay well when you decide… let me know. Er, enjoy your curry,” he added with a nervous laugh. Without looking at Draco again, he Disapparated.

Draco sank to the floor, unable to process what the _fuck_ just happened.


	5. Ch 5

Morning came entirely too early the next day. Draco lay in his bed, staring at Biscuit’s empty perch, wondering how he was going to manage the day. He still didn’t know what to make of his argument with Potter, and what it was he wanted from the man. Friendship couldn’t really be all Potter was after, could it?

And wasn’t that what Draco wanted? When they were having their odd fling months before, he’d whined that Potter wasn’t his friend. Now Potter wanted to be his friend and he was whining about sex. 

Perhaps it was that Draco wanted both. He wanted Potter back in his bed. He wanted them to be on friendly terms. But he also wanted to feel they each had an equal stake in their relationship, be it romantic or platonic. 

As it was, Draco felt Potter was still calling all the shots.

All right, sure, he was trying to listen to Draco and be supportive and all that. But Draco was still left waiting and wondering and alone. Always on the cusp of despair should Potter suddenly decide not to visit anymore.

Without a solution in mind, Draco sat at his desk and pulled a stack of files from his inbox. It was a problem he’d have to examine another time. Hours later, he rubbed his tired eyes and went to the break room for lunch. He stood at the counter, reading one last file and absently making tea.

Boot, Weasley, and Potter came in laughing.

“...so I don’t know,” Boot was saying, “At this point, we’re just going to have to throw a virgin sacrifice at it and hope that unlocks the door.”

“Brilliant! Harry, your moment’s finally come!” Weasley said, laughing, as he patted Potter on the back. The three of them sat at the table with their lunches, so Draco continued pretending to read at the counter. Perhaps they would ignore him and he wouldn’t be drawn into whatever was happening. 

“Alas… that ship has sailed,” Potter returned with a grin.

“Bullshit! You did not!” Weasley said as Finnigan and Longbottom came in. “Seamus! Harry said he’s finally become a man.”

“Liar!” Finnigan shouted as he pulled his lunch from the cupboard. He and Longbottom joined the others laughing at the table.

“Leave Harry alone,” Longbottom said, shaking his head. “It’s none of our business.”

“Shut up, Nev. So,” Weasley said, turning to Potter with a wide grin, “how was it?”

“It was… beautiful,” Potter said calmly. Draco felt his stomach drop. What the ever-loving _fuck_? That couldn’t mean what Draco thought, could it?

Weasley put on a sugary voice, speaking over the others’ laughter, “Aww… that’s just as sappy as you are!”

“Yeah… and we had a romantic cereal breakfast the next morning.” 

Holy fucking shit. Draco dropped his mug in his mad scramble to leave the break room. 

“Cereal? Just how old was this witch, Harry?”

Harry snorted and flicked his wand at the mess Draco had made. The tea vanished and the mug repaired itself on its way to the counter. Draco clutched his folder tight and debated the merits of dashing back to the lab. But something kept him rooted to the spot.

“Don’t be an idiot, we were both consenting adults. And it was sweet. Anyway, I made us a proper breakfast the next time.”

“Next time? Just how many times were there?” Weasley asked, his grin falling.

Potter shrugged, “Bunches. We were together almost two months.” With steady hands he unwrapped his sandwich and opened a bottle of pumpkin juice.

The others stopped laughing and stared at Potter. Longbottom looked the most confused, “Wait, you dated someone for two months without saying anything at all to any of us?”

“Yup.” He enunciated the word so the ‘p’ popped loudly in the silence.

No one said anything for an eternity. Potter took a large bite of his sandwich and ate as if nothing was wrong. Draco, feeling lightheaded and slightly sick, moved to the door. Just as he crossed the threshold, he heard Weasley ask, “Why?” Draco froze in the hall.

“Because it was easier if everyone didn’t know.”

Boot asked the obvious question, “What happened to her?”

“I was stupid and selfish. So we ended it… until I could get my shit together.”

Macmillan eyed Draco as he passed on his way to the join the others. “I found another spell we can try on the door,” he said as he sat down.

“Sod the door! Guess what - “ 

Draco didn’t wait around to hear more. He fell into his chair at his desk, legs too shaky to hold him up. Thoughts of Potter raced through his mind, naked and laughing and sweaty and so fucking hot… And only for Draco. 

Potter had some explaining to do.

\--------

Draco opened the door before Potter had even finished knocking. “Get in here!” He yanked Potter inside then slammed the door. “You. Were. A _virgin_?”

Moving as slow as treacle, Potter set the bag of take-away on the table and removed his jacket. Draco, patience already shot before they even started, barked out, “Well? Are you going to explain?”

“First, you have to understand what it was like…” Potter trailed off, tracing a grain line on the table. Draco struggled to remain calm and sat across from him. “Things were bad with Ginny, then she broke it off. And then you - your father kicked you out and…”

Draco didn’t need reminding about that fiasco. The Wizengamot, the goblins barring him from his vault, and reporters dogging his every step. 

“I saw a picture of you that just - it drove me utterly mad. I was so confused and scared. And then… there you were, working in my department and looking so fucking fit. And I didn’t know what I wanted or how to get it.”

“Until finally you did.”

“That first kiss... I wasn’t lying about that. It was the first thing that felt right in a long time but it was all still confusing. And I didn’t want to make things more complicated than they already were by putting that kind of pressure on you. I didn’t want to talk about Ginny or about - you know, wanking to pictures of you - “ He cut off at Draco’s undignified squawk.

“You did not!”

Potter’s grin made Draco’s stomach swoop. “Oh I absolutely did. A picture from the _Prophet_. I think it was from when you finished the trial with your father. You’re coming out of the Ministry and the light is hitting you just right and you kind of turn and smile. It’s fucking gorgeous.”

Draco spluttered, unsure what to say. He vaguely remembered the article and picture from nearly three years ago but hadn’t paid close enough attention to how he looked. Self-consciously he straightened his robes.

“Calm down, you’re still gorgeous,” Potter said with a smile. “Anyway, when I felt ready, I knew you’d lead me through it and it wouldn’t matter if I’d been with a woman or not because any mistakes I made would be attributed to first-time-with-a-man nerves.” 

He ended with a shrug, as if that was enough. As if Draco wasn’t off-balance and confused. “But… why me? Why would you - that’s such a big thing - why - “

“That’s just it - I didn’t want it to be a big thing. I wanted to share a moment with you and I didn’t want it to be about first times or big, grand expectations.” Potter reached for Draco’s hand, which Draco eagerly supplied. “And after, when it was all creeping up on me, you told me it was beautiful and invited me to stay…”

Draco huffed a nervous laugh, “I didn’t want you spending the night alone, to drown in your own fear and doubt.”

“I would have,” Potter said with a smile. When Draco sat tense, he asked, “Did you? Your first time?”

“More or less. As soon as my house arrest was finished, I went out dressed in the sluttiest clothes I could transfigure, found a muggle club, and went home with the first guy that showed interest. He didn’t know it was my first time and… things moved so fast and I didn’t know what I was doing but it was all so amazing and wonderful… and then he just kicked me out. Sort of a ‘thanks for the ride, now go’ kind of thing. I walked to the nearest Apparition point feeling dirtier with every step. I cried the whole night.”

“Oh, Draco…” Potter pulled his chair around the table next to Draco’s and gave him a half hug.

“My father yelled at me the next day. We fought off and on for the next few weeks, until I finally took a portkey to France for the weekend. I got sloshed and bounced from bed to bed for three days. When I came home, all my things were packed in four trunks just outside the Manor gates. Father disowned me after that.”

“But you made it on your own. You didn’t need him.”

“No, I didn’t but… I still miss them. You know, I almost died five separate times during the war. You’d think he’d appreciate the life of his only offspring,” Draco said with a harsh laugh.

“I appreciate the life of his only offspring,” Potter said, hugging Draco close.

Draco laughed and held tight to the man in his arms. Who would have guessed five years ago that this was where they would end up? What an odd pair they were.

“Can you believe us? Together like this?” Potter asked. “So weird…”

Draco laughed again and shook his head. “Enough of these maudlin moments. Let’s eat.”

Potter stood to fetch their plates but Draco tugged him back so Potter landed sprawled across his lap. Sexy smirk on his face, Potter arranged himself so he was straddling Draco’s thighs. “Yes Mr Malfoy? Is there something I can help you with?”

Draco smiled. “Before we eat, I could... maybe… go for a kiss right now.”

“Me too,” Potter whispered, already lowering his head. It was like that first glorious rainfall after a lifetime of drought. Warmth spread through Draco and his moans mingled with Potter’s. Months of pent up passion were let loose in a torrent of lips and teeth and tongue. Potter’s hands cupped Draco’s cheeks and he slowed the kiss until they were just lightly brushing lips. He rested his head against Draco and said softly, “I missed you.”

“Would you - I think I’m not ready for us to - “ Draco sighed to push away his nervousness, “We can’t have sex yet but would you like to stay the night? Just to sleep?”

Potter kissed him again and then smiled. “I would love that.”

The evening passed like one of their happier times from all those months ago. They ate and laughed over nothing. Potter kept up a running commentary as Draco brewed for Sweet Solutions and then, dressed in pyjamas more suited to four year olds than grown men, they settled into bed together.

“Where do you even get pyjamas with hiding demiguise on them?” Potter asked into the dark room.

“Same place I got the ones with little mooncalves dancing under crescent moons and puffskeins in funny hats,” Draco answered. His legs tangled with Potter’s and he wrapped an arm around his waist. “If you don’t like them, you should bring your own pyjamas next time.”

“I can’t really judge, mine have zooming snitches on them.”

“Predictable!” Draco said with a laugh that had Potter laughing and nuzzling his nose. Draco ran a hand through Potter’s hair. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too. Thank you for letting me stay.”

After a moment of silence, Draco said softly, “You were very brave, earlier. When they were asking you about us.”

Potter gave a quiet chuckle and said, “I was terrified.”

“It didn’t show.”

“It helped, coming here on Thursdays. Getting to know you. It made me feel less like I was doing something…” Draco rubbed Potter’s back as he trailed off. “Instead of feeling like I was hiding something shameful, it felt like I was protecting something precious and then it was easier to stay calm.”

Draco felt for Potter’s face in the dark and scooted forward for another kiss. For several minutes, all that mattered was the hands caressing him and the lips teasing at his. Potter gripped tight to Draco and kissed along his jaw and down his neck. 

He inhaled deeply and moaned, “I missed the way you smell. I swear I could smell it on me when I got home and I hated having to shower it off, even if it was just my imagination.”

“Potter, you sap,” Draco said with a smile against Potter’s cheek.

“Call me Harry. Please… I can’t bear to hear you call me Potter anymore.”

“Harry…” Draco said softly. Potter responded with another deep kiss that sent Draco reeling. They shifted so Draco was on his back and Potter was half covering him. He linked his fingers with Draco’s and rested them by Draco’s head. 

“I want, so very badly, to fuck you right now. Until all you can think, all you can say, is my name. Shouting it in my ear as you come in a hot rush all over us.” He rocked hard against Draco, pressing his erection into Draco’s hip. 

“Harry!” Draco said, wrapping a leg around Potter and arching up into him. “Harder…” He pressed against Potter’s arse to get their bodies closer together.

“Draco… fuck, how I missed you!” He kissed Draco again, sucking hard on his tongue and squeezing his thigh. With a deep groan, he rolled away from Draco and off the bed.

“Harry! Fuck!” Draco scrambled for his wand to light the lamp. Potter was sprawled on the floor, covering his eyes against the bright light with one hand. The other was down his pyjama bottoms, cupping his prick. Draco couldn’t help but laugh again. “Are you all right? Sorry I’m laughing… I know it’s not funny…”

“Oh it’s hilarious…” Potter said, moving his hand away from his eyes to grin at Draco. “I did it on purpose you know.”

“Sure you did.”

“I did!” Potter laughed, rising to his knees. He leaned his elbows on the bed and took Draco’s hands. “I’m afraid of going too fast and ruining things.”

“Oh,” Draco said, his grin softening. 

“I’m not sure I should stay after all,” Potter said quietly. His eyes flicked down to their hands and back up. “I want to but I don’t think I can be trusted to keep my hands to myself.”

Draco bit his lip and sat up. “All right,” he said slowly. Thoughtfully he plucked at his lip as he considered Potter in front of him. “I think it’s too new. Too fragile. I think sex would - “

“ - would complicate things. Yes, I agree.”

“Do you want to split the bed? Make two single beds? We could leave a nice wide gap between them.”

Potter’s grin was infectious. “Just like a sleepover. It’ll match our ridiculous pyjamas!”

Draco blew raspberries at Potter as he got up. Potter waved a hand and the bed split in two, leaving a half metre gap between them. Draco duplicated the bedding and with a silly grin, he climbed into the bed in the room’s centre, leaving the bed by the wall for Potter. “Get the lights,” he said as he wrapped himself in the blanket.

Potter extinguished the lights and rustled around in his bed. “This is the silliest thing I’ve done in a long time.”

“It’s fun, though. We didn’t get a chance for childish fun when we were younger. This might be my first ever sleepover.”

“Mine too.”

Draco smiled into the dark and adjusted his covers again. He was tangled in his pyjamas so he pulled on the fabric, then reached inside to adjust his cock. He stroked it a few times out of habit and it returned to full hardness. Determined to ignore it, he pulled the covers up to his chin and sighed heavily. In the other bed, he heard Potter sighing as well.

It was silent for a few minutes, then Draco heard Potter’s covers rustling. “Draco?” Potter whispered.

“Yes?” Draco whispered back.

“You think boys at sleepovers ever wank together?”

Laughter bubbled up and out of Draco as he threw the covers off. He dropped onto Potter’s bed, more or less landing right on top of him, and wrestled the covers off as their lips found each other again. 

“Harry, you sexy fuck,” Draco hissed as his hands wrapped around Potter’s cock. They both groaned as his hand stroked quickly. Draco shifted carefully, sitting back so Potter could lift into a sitting position. Potter worked Draco’s pyjamas down so he could stroke Draco in return. “Yes… “

“What about - “ Potter cut off with a soft moan. “I thought - “

“Yeah I know, me too. But fuck it. Yes, just like that…” Draco’s knees hugged Potter’s thighs as he straddled his legs, bouncing lightly to encourage Potter to move faster.

They should both be embarrassed at how quickly it was all over. But Draco didn’t care. This whole evening had been bizarre and silly and now he could add happy and passionate to the list. His hand flew faster over Potter’s prick and their breath mingled as their foreheads pressed together.

“Draco… yes… “ Potter came first with a heavy groan but Draco followed only moments later with a soft, “Harry,” on his lips.

The held each other, panting heavily, as they came down from their high. Draco felt Potter shifting below him and a cool wash of a cleaning charm. There was a kiss to his cheek, then he moved off Potter and they wordlessly arranged themselves together in the bed. They exchanged soft kisses and tried to untangle themselves from the covers. 

Draco yelped when he nearly fell from the small bed as he tried to yank the covers out from below him. Potter laughed and reached over him into the empty space between their beds. A wave of his hand brought the two beds back together. Giving up entirely on fixing the covers, they curled up together in a messy nest of blankets and sheets.

Drifting in a cozy haze, wrapped up in Potter, Draco hovered on the edge of a contented sleep.

And then in the silence, Potter whispered, “This was the best sleepover ever.”

Draco couldn’t stop the wave of giggles that made him tickle the man in his arms. Potter grabbed his hands and pressed a hard kiss to his lips.

“Goodnight, Draco.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

\--------

The next morning, Draco woke up sprawled on his belly, tangled up in sheets and Potter. Sometime during the night, Potter had begun to use Draco as a pillow. His head rested between Draco’s shoulder blades and his arm was wrapped tight around Draco’s waist. As Draco shifted, Potter moaned and rubbed his face on Draco’s back, then rolled so he was on his pillow once again.

“Why is it morning already?” Potter groaned. He curled up on his side and tugged the corner of a blanket over himself.

Draco crawled out of the bed and away from the devil’s snare of bedding and made his way to the bathroom. While he brushed, he heard Potter fall out of the bed again to follow.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” Draco said cheerily as he kissed Potter’s cheek. “I’ll get us breakfast.”

“Is it more cereal?” Potter called after him.

“It certainly is! I have a bright colored one with marshmallows that will go with the sleepover theme!” 

By the time Potter left the bathroom, Draco had fixed the blankets on the bed and was sitting cross-legged on top with two bowls of cereal. Potter joined him with a lopsided grin, his floppy hair sticking up in all directions.

“Why do you eat cereal for breakfast?” Potter asked. He slurped up a large spoonful of the sugary cereal.

Draco shrugged, “Why do you cook breakfast every day?”

“I like a cooked breakfast.”

“Well I hate cooking.”

“Really?” Potter tilted his head and considered Draco. “I thought you’d like it because it’s kind of like brewing potions.”

“I hate brewing potions and after doing it all day, I certainly don’t want to stand at the stove stirring a boiling pot of food.” Draco skimmed along the top of his cereal to fill his spoon with only marshmallows.

“If you hate brewing, why are you a Potions Master?”

“Because,” Draco said as though it were obvious, “it was a job I could do from home. I needed something any anonymous person could do and Potions was it. Just because I’m good at it doesn’t mean I like it.” He tipped his bowl back to drink the last of the milk, now pink from the cereal’s dye. A flick of his wand sent the bowl and spoon to the sink. He smiled at Potter, but Potter frowned in return.

“Why are you in a job you hate?” Potter stared down at his half finished cereal and set the bowl on the coffee table.

“Because it’s a job. It’s not like I had many options.” Drace ran his hands up Potter’s thighs with a grin. “And it’s not all bad. It brought me to you…”

Potter grinned back at him, “That it did.”

Draco gave him a quick kiss. “Plus it’s not all bad. I enjoy the research aspect. I just don’t like brewing the same things day in and day out. That’s why I brew so many antidotes at the Ministry. Partly so I’m prepared, but also to give me something different to brew.”

“What would you be doing if you could do anything?”

“You,” Draco said with a laugh, crawling into Potter’s lap. He dropped chaste kisses on his lips, his cheeks, and even the tip of his nose.

“Mmm, while the thought of riding your cock sounds… so good…” Potter said with a smile, “I was actually serious.”

Draco sat back and sighed. “I don’t know. All I’ve ever done is what necessity has demanded. I don’t think I’ve ever had to give it much thought.”

Potter’s face turned serious again. “Oh. That’s really sad.” 

“It’s fine, Harry,” Draco said, squeezing Potter’s cheeks and giving him another kiss before crawling off his lap. “Soon Lydia will retire, the lab will be mine, and things will be better.” Draco stood and stretched again, noticing the way Potter’s eyes traveled down his body. “Speaking of brewing…”

“Are you seriously going to work more today?”

“I am indeed. There are Sweet Solutions to be made!” Draco stripped his shirt off and looked coyly at Potter. “But first… a shower… join me?”

Potter eagerly jumped off the bed, stripping his shirt off as well. Laughing, Draco led the way to the bathroom.

\--------

Potter ended up staying all day. While Draco spent a significant amount of time in his home lab, there was plenty of time for cuddling and laughing together. They decided against a second sleepover, knowing Potter would have a hard time explaining his absence to Weasley and Granger as it was. 

“What do you think you’ll tell them?” Draco asked.

Potter shrugged, “Probably something along the lines of, ‘None of your business,’ and, ‘I’m a grown man and don’t need to report my every move to you.’”

“And you think that’ll be enough?”

“No. Not by a long shot. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if they planted a tracker on me and followed me here next time I came to visit. They’re already suspicious about my Thursday ‘Art Class’. But we can burn that bridge when we get to it.”

“Art classes? That’s what you came up with?”

“I dabble in paint,” Potter said with a grin, “so it seemed plausible. Plus, they can’t go with me like they could if I were, say, in a bowling league. And, I don’t have to show them anything because I am a shy artist. Can’t have anyone examining the unfinished pieces!”

“Masterfully done,” Draco laughed and let Potter kiss him again. “Enjoy your lunch at the Burrow.”

“I will.”

He slapped Potter’s arse and stepped back to give him room to Disapparate. “See you Monday,” he said with a smile.

Potter frowned. “It’s going to be hard, Monday, pretending this never happened.”

Draco shook his head sadly, “No, it won’t. You’ll see.” He blew a kiss and smiled, “Go. Be brave and strong and don’t tell them anything you don’t want to.”

With renewed determination, Potter nodded, then turned on the spot to Disapparate with a soft crack.

\--------

The atmosphere at work was just as tense and ugly as it had been before their happy weekend. If anything, it was worse now that Weasley knew Potter was keeping secrets. Draco easily kept to his lab and ignored the turmoil outside its doors. As he suspected, Lydia was not called into work on Saturday, although there were only two samples that needed analysing. On Draco’s Saturday, they would have found reason to keep him there the entire day, but for Lydia’s Saturday, it could apparently wait until Monday. The unfairness of it clawed at him.

Aurors Johnson and Whittle were pleased to get their paperwork from him and were loud with their thanks, simply to annoy the Junior Aurors that were present. Later that afternoon, Stebbins proclaimed Malfoy a genius for his quick work at producing an antidote to a slimy green substance that left greyish burns on the skin. Each compliment only made Weasley, Finnigan, and Boot sour further.

Potter kept his distance all week, neither smiling nor frowning at Draco. He still kept an eye out for mischief, but it seemed Weasley was holding back for the time being. Perhaps curiosity about Potter’s potential girlfriend had too much of Weasley’s attention to spare any for Draco. 

“I just don’t see why you can’t tell me who it is,” Weasley whined loudly enough for his voice to carry through the department as he followed Potter to the break room for lunch. “If she’s a muggle, you know I don’t care. ‘Mione and I can lay off magic for a night so we can meet her. We could double date somewhere muggle so we don’t have to explain our weird house to her.”

Potter kicked a chair and yelled back, “Would you please lay off? I’ve told you I don’t want to to talk about it! My relationship is my business!”

“It’s just weird! You tell me everything! And now you’re sneaking around… Can’t you at least tell me why it’s a secret? Is she famous? Is it something weird, like she’s got an embarrassing birthmark, or it’s someone we know that you don’t want to admit to?”

“I’m not talking about this anymore. It’s none of your business who I date and that’s that!”

When Potter came over on Thursday, dejected and weary, Draco held him tight until the tension finally drained away and he could return the hug. “Did you check for trackers before you came?”

Potter barked out a laugh and shook his head. “I think they’re both afraid to try anything just yet. We… had words…”

“That sounds like an understatement.”

“Of the century.” Potter dug through the bag on the table. “I brought ingredients for chicken and rice. And,” triumphantly he pulled a bottle from the bag, “a bottle of wine.”

“Are you trying to seduce me, Mr Potter?” Draco asked with a grin, raising one eyebrow in a way that he knew drove Potter mad.

Potter attempted the same but ended up looking confusedly surprised, “Only if it’s working, Mr Malfoy.”

Draco gave him a kiss and took the bottle. “I’ll pour. You cook.” As Draco sat at the table, Potter paused for a moment in a way that sent a chill up Draco’s spine. “What?”

“Do you think we’re rushing too fast? Back to how we were?”

“If we were any two other people, I’d say yes. But we’re us and that was four months ago and we’re better now than we were then.” Draco nodded to himself. “And life’s too short. I’ve nearly died, you’ve definitely died. I want this while I can.”

Potter started chopping the chicken into bite-sized pieces. “It’s hard, separating work from play.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

Potter frowned while he stirred the chicken in the skillet. He waved his hand over the pot of water to get it boiling and added the rice. “I’m not sure that’s a thing I want to get used to.”

“Are you saying you want to come out?”

Potter’s grip tightened on the spoon in his hand. Draco came up behind him and ran his hands down Potter’s arms. He wrapped his hands around Potter’s waist and kissed him on the back of his neck. “Don’t do it if you’re not sure. Because you can’t take it back. There’s no need to rush it just because you want to sit with me at lunch in the break room. Or come to my house without a tracker planted in your pants.”

Potter laughed nervously and slowly his body relaxed in Draco’s arms. “It’s more likely to be in my shoes anyway.”

“Good to know.” Draco gave him a last squeeze and returned to the table so Potter could finish cooking. “But if you want to remove your pants just in case, I won’t object.”

“Will you take yours off too, so I’m not alone?”

“Why Mr Potter, you _are_ trying to seduce me!” Potter’s laugh warmed Draco to his toes. They were on the right track at last.


	6. Ch 6

Worry must still eat at Harry because the next week he asked, “So what do you think? About how things are going?” 

Draco looked up from his cauldron to see Harry staring at him intently. “Here or at work?”

“Both. But here is what I meant.” He rubbed at his neck and smiled at Draco. “Do you think things are okay?”

“Yes, things seem to be going well between us.”

Harry nodded and glanced at his magazine. “You’re sure? Because if you’re having doubts or worries, I want to know about it.”

Draco spelled his stirring rod to continue on without him and squeezed into Harry’s chair, giving his full attention. “I think things are going well. I like having you here on Thursdays and sharing a meal. I like that I’m not wasting my time waiting for you because I know when you’re coming.” He smiled and ran his hand through Harry’s thick black hair. His voice lowered seductively, “I like kissing you.” He punctuated his statement with a kiss to Harry’s flushed cheek. “I like… other things…” he whispered softly in Harry’s ear.

Harry laughed and twisted around to face Draco. His face had a soft glow but his expression was serious. “I don’t want to take advantage of you again. It’s hard because I know things could be different if I were out but…”

“But you’re not and that’s just fine.” Draco caressed Harry’s cheek. “I’m happy with how things are. Yes, it would be different if you were out, but you’ll regret rushing that for the rest of your life. I’m okay with keeping things small and steady.” He wrapped his arms around Harry and rubbed circles down his back. “Are you feeling all right?’

Harry clutched at Draco’s shirt and buried his face in Draco’s neck. “Yeah… I’m just - getting attached to you. It’s not enough, once a week. I need - I miss you… and seeing you at work… But I don’t want you thinking it’s just because of the sex.”

“Before, that’s what it felt like. You’d show up at random, fuck me, and leave. You didn’t listen, didn’t care, didn’t try. But things are so different now.” Draco pulled back so Harry could look at him. “Now, we laugh over dinner. We talk about work and about the war and about our lives.” He tucked a curl behind Harry’s ear and smiled, “We still fuck like mad, but now there’s - something so beautiful about it, don’t you think?”

Harry bit his lip and nodded, green eyes wide and earnest. 

“It’s not like it was before. It’s better. And if you want more… maybe you should consider a pottery class.”

“Pottery class?”

“Yes. Thursdays are your art classes, Tuesdays could be your pottery classes. You can sit next to Miss Marjorie Bloom, a poor clumsy young woman that manages to break nearly everything you make.”

Harry’s lips curled up in a smile, “ _Nearly_ everything?”

“Sure… It’s unlikely she’d break _everything_. We’ll go to a shop and buy you a few simple pieces you can pass off as your own.”

Harry laughed and shook his head. He reached down for Draco’s hands, his face sobering. “I was actually… thinking of moving out.”

“Out of your house?” Into where, was Draco’s immediate thought. Would Harry be interested in getting a flat together? That was a thought to mull over another time.

“Yeah. Ron and Hermione - they’ll be starting a family before long and… “

“You’re not just wanting to leave because of their questions on your whereabouts?”

“Well…” Harry looked down at their hands. “I can’t deny I’d like a little more freedom of movement as far as that goes.”

More of Harry, more of them together. The thought made Draco feel warm all over, but he was reluctant to encourage Harry to move out now while tensions were high. It was a decision best made with a clear head. “Hmm… Just don’t…“ Draco lifted Harry’s chin and kissed him softly on the lips, “don’t make any hasty decisions there. All right?”

“No, I’ll just think on it. I just thought… well… Anyway, I’m thinking on it.”

“Hmm, well in the meantime, consider a pottery class.”

“Brilliant,” Harry said with a smile. He brushed kisses along Draco’s lips and jaw. “You’re brilliant…”

Draco reached for the buttons of Harry’s shirt. “Yes, I am. We’ve got a bit of time before my potion is ready, I could show you how truly brilliant I can be…” 

\--------

Three weeks of a Tuesday pottery class made Weasley more sour than ever. And it was made worse when Draco came to work on a Monday in April to find that Lydia had quit.

Draco could only stare at Robards in shock. “What? Just like that, she’s gone?”

“Yes,” Robards said, shuffling papers on his desk. He cleared his throat. “Apparently she’s been trying to get sacked for a while.” He talked over Draco’s splutter. “You know we were hiring back then so that she could finally retire and… she grew tired of waiting for the Aurors to accept you and decided a clean break was best.”

“Doesn’t she - need to give notice or - “

“She did. Today. But she’d already put in for her holiday so… she’s gone now. Says she won’t be returning and if I want to pursue it, she’ll take it to a higher power.”

“The Minister?” Draco asked slowly. Was Lydia really on speaking terms with the Minister of Magic?

Robards cleared his throat. “My mother. They play bridge on Saturdays.” He stood and offered Draco a stack of files. “These were her most recent files. You’ll need to sort them. See if they’re even accurate. And Malfoy…” He paused a moment and Draco’s stomach twisted. But then he nodded curtly, “Congratulations. You know we were hesitant to hire you, and only did it because Daisy Lou Mason had put us in a tight spot. But you’ve proven your worth, as Lydia said you would. Don’t let her down.”

Draco reached for the files in a daze. “Thank you, sir.” He left the office and scanned the desks, unconsciously searching for Harry. He halted when Robards grabbed him by the arm.

“Just a moment.” Robards raised his voice, “If I could have everyone’s attention please! This morning, Lydia submitted her letter of resignation.” He held his hands up to still the murmurs that broke out. “She’s been part of our Auror family for over thirty years and has long been working towards her retirement. She’ll be greatly missed, but she’s done all she can to train Draco Malfoy to take her place.” He paused and this time let the whispers run their course. “I don’t need to explain to you the importance of his role in our department. And I expect all of you to treat him with the respect due his position.”

Auror Johnson began a round of applause that was quickly picked up by the other Senior Aurors. Draco smiled and nodded, unsure what he should say. Macmillan and Boot whispered together, both seeming indifferent. Since they’d stopped pranking Draco, Boot had shown his ambivalence, neither caring nor uncaring about Draco. Harry smiled eagerly to Longbottom and clapped along with the others. Weasley and Finnigan both frowned, arms crossed defiantly.

Robards pat Draco heartily on the back and pushed him off towards the lab. Aurors came in throughout the day to congratulate him. Johnson, Whittle, Jones, and Whitby took him out to lunch to celebrate. 

That evening, Draco was surprised by a knock on the door. “Harry! What are you doing here?”

“I brought a pie!” He held up the chocolate pie in his hands. “Thought we’d celebrate? That okay?”

“Yes, of course. Come in.” Draco smiled widely and stepped back to let him in. He just had time to close the door before Harry was on him. He moaned at the feel of Harry’s body pressed to his, the heat of his mouth, and the squeeze of his free hand on Draco’s arse. “Mmm… I like celebrating with you…”

Harry laughed. “Oh we’re only getting started! Let me set the pie down.” He sent the pie floating to the table. “And now…” He pulled Draco to the bed, transfiguring it back into a sofa. “Sit here. I want to take care of you.” Moving quickly, he unfastened Draco’s trousers and pulled them down his hips. “Yes…” With sure movements he licked and sucked at Draco’s prick until it was glistening and hard. 

“That’s so good, Harry…” Draco said softly. “You feel so - ” Harry’s tongue swirled, making Draco cut off with a moan. “I love watching you do that.”

Harry popped off with an obscene slurp that made Draco’s stomach flip. “Are you going to top or bottom later?”

“Does it matter?”

“Mm… yes… “ Harry gave him a wicked grin and took Draco as deep as he could. 

While he worked Draco’s cock at a deliciously slow pace, Draco said breathily, “Because you want to know if you should finish me off now?” The hard suck told him yes. “The answer is obviously going to be finish me off now and then again later.” Harry huffed a muffled laugh around Draco’s prick. “Now you’re taking the edge off, I can consider my options…”

Harry’s hand cupped Draco’s bollocks and gave them a hard squeeze. “Fucking hell… If I bottom, I can take you for a long time before I need to finish. You could ride me so hard, in so many positions. On my knees, arse in the air.” Harry whined and moved even slower, his lips a light tickle. 

“No?” Draco asked, sliding down on the sofa so he could cradle Harry between his knees. He squeezed Harry close and laced their fingers together. Harry licked the saliva dripping down Draco’s cock, down to his bollocks. “You want me to top? You want me to fuck that pretty arse of yours?”

Harry responded by taking Draco’s cock deep into his mouth with a soft moan. “Yes… is that it? You want me inside you, driving you to the edge and holding you there? Fucking you so hard you see stars?” Harry bobbed his head faster, sucking harder. “You want to be the one with your arse in the air, my fingers gripping you tight?” Harry slowed his movements again. “No? You want to be on your back, your legs around my waist, pulling me in as deep as I can go?” Harry pulled back to lick along Draco’s length, long stripes that made Draco shiver as green eyes met grey.

“Oh no, you naughty thing. You want to ride me, don’t you?” Harry smiled and went back to taking Draco in deep. “Yes… you want to straddle my hips and lower yourself down on my cock. Let it fill you. You look so fucking gorgeous like that, your cheeks flushing, your eyes rolling back.” Harry started moaning around Draco’s cock, tiny desperate sounds that drove Draco mad. “You think I could make you come untouched? Fuck you just right so your cock is dripping on me.” Harry bit gently, scraping Draco with his teeth as he moved. 

Draco grasped at Harry’s curls, steadying him to accept the gentle thrusts of his hips. “Harry, you sexy thing… I’m going to fuck up into you so hard you feel it for a week. You’re going to come all over me, Harry. Make a huge mess of come all over my chest. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Yes… Fuck… Yes… _yes_.” Harry held still for Draco’s last erratic thrusts as the orgasm crashed over him. Draco’s pleasure spiked again when Harry’s lips parted and come dripped down his lips, over Draco’s cock while Harry’s head continued to bob. He licked Draco through the last waves of his orgasm with care, then sat back on his heels.

“You look a fucking mess, Potter,” Draco said with a sleep smile.

“Your fucking mess,” Harry returned with a grin. Absently he wiped at his mouth, vanishing the mess as he went. He waved a hand to vanish the come from Draco as well then joined him on the sofa. “You look so hot right now.”

“That was…” Draco sighed, there were no words. 

“Yeah,” Harry said, dropping a kiss on Draco’s forehead and gathering him close, “it was.” Harry kissed his cheek, down his neck and then whispered, “Can we eat the pie now?”

Draco snorted. He stood to fix his clothing, then decided that he was halfway to pyjamas anyway, and pulled them off instead.

“I think I like the way you eat pie,” Harry said, eyes, traveling down Draco’s body.

Draco rolled his eyes and pulled pyjama bottoms on, then summoned plates and forks. “This looks delicious. Where’d you get it?” He sat at the table and served them each a large slice.

“I had some errands to run after work. I was passing a bakery and thought it would be a fun surprise. To celebrate.” Harry smiled as he took the first bite. “It’s okay, right? That I dropped in unannounced.”

Draco took his hand with a soft smile. “More than. I’m glad you’re here.”

“I wish I could be here all the time.” He looked down at his pie and poked it with his fork. He opened his mouth to say more, but then sighed and took a large bite.

“What is it?”

Harry set his fork down and took Draco’s hands. “I don’t like this. Hiding. Lying. I want to tell them. About me. About us.”

“All right. You’re sure you’re ready for it?” Draco’s thoughts swirled, unsure where to land. Telling Granger and Weasley would be a big step for Harry, and he knew how scared he was of their potential rejection. “Because once you say it, you can’t un-say it.”

“I know and… it’s going to be hard. But they love me and we’ve been through so much together. I want them to understand.” He bit his lip and stared wide-eyed at Draco. “Do you think you could be there? We don’t have to tell them we’re together. But just so I have someone with me?”

“I’d be happy to, if you think it will help. But…” Draco didn’t know how to phrase what he wanted to say so it wouldn’t hurt Harry’s feelings. “Do you think that, maybe, I’m not the best one to support you?”

“What? Why?”

“Well you know they aren’t fond of me… And it could be they see me as a - a bad influence.” Draco pressed his lips together against a flood of complaints about Weasley. He watched Harry’s face fall and knew this hadn’t occurred to him. “I mean, of course I will if you want me to. I’d do anything to help you. I just… don’t know that _I_ could help you this time.”

“Yeah,” Harry said slowly. He sat back in his chair and rubbed the back of his neck wearily. “Yeah, okay. Maybe I should think on it more.” He took a bite of pie and stared off, considering.

“You could try Longbottom first.”

“Neville?”

“He’s a good, solid bloke. Gentle spirited. He’s eager to love you so I doubt he’d respond badly. And he gets on well with Weasley when they’re not ganging up on me.” Draco smiled to show he wasn’t upset. The focus of this conversation was Harry, not the troubles Draco was still having with Weasley. “Both Granger and Weasley will be less likely to attack you if you have someone like Longbottom at your side.”

“Huh, I hadn’t thought… that’s a great idea. I’ll talk with him, maybe tomorrow. We can go to lunch or something where no one will bother us.” Harry sat up straighter in his chair and smiled. “Yeah, a great idea. Thank you, Draco.”

Draco leaned over to kiss Harry’s cheek, “You’re welcome. I’m proud of you. Coming out is difficult, even with people that love you. Especially with people that love you. And I’ll be here if you need me.”

Harry finished the last few bites of his pie with a wide grin. “You’ve been so good to me. I’m - “ Harry shook his head, “I feel terrible for the way I treated you. Before.”

“Don’t be. We’re past it and we’re building something good. The change at work has been remarkable. And Weasley and Finnigan will come around.”

“Yeah, maybe you’ll save one of them, like you did Auror Johnson, and all will be forgiven.”

Draco snorted again. “I doubt that’ll happen and you shouldn’t be wishing for something like that.”

Harry smiled, “Oh it’s going to be fine, now that you’re there to look over us. Are you worried about the workload, now that Lydia’s gone and you have to do it all yourself?”

“Most of what I’ve been doing the past year or so is fixing her mistakes. Everything was fine when I first started but then… She started spilling potions that then needed replacing, or ruined ones she was brewing. The worst is when she has some kind of accident that ruins our paperwork and I have to do it all again. Sometimes she disappears for hours at a time, leaving me to fix her mistakes alone.”

“Huh. She do all that on purpose?”

“Apparently. She’s been trying to get sacked since it became obvious everyone hated me and she couldn’t leave on her own. I guess she’d had enough.”

“I’m so happy for you Draco,” Harry said, patting Draco’s thigh. “Hey, you know what a secure job means? You get to quit Sweet Solutions too!”

“Harry Potter! I am shocked! Are you, of all people, suggesting I abandon all the customers that supported me through my troubled, post war years?”

“Well, not like right away…”

Draco laughed and rolled his eyes. “We’ll see how that goes.” He took their plates to the sink and then pulled Harry to his feet. “But first… I think we have more celebrating to get to…”

\--------

The next morning, Draco eagerly packed up the mess on Lydia’s desk, and let the young man from Wizarding Resources take her desk away. He spun a few circles in the now-spacious office with a wide smile. The lab was his very own!

Humming happily, he sorted through paperwork and files to organize everything as he preferred. Work went peacefully along without Lydia’s whining commentary to eat away at his calm. Unless something drastic happened, this would be his best day of work at the Ministry since he started there a year and a half ago. 

Cue something drastic, Draco thought with a sigh as the lift dinged and shouting could already be heard.

“ - and I’ve told _you_ that the fucking ferret can’t be trusted!”

“Why can’t you just let it go? You’re not my mum so cut the fucking apron strings and let me live my life! I don’t need your permission to be friends with someone!”

Harry and Weasley came around the corner, both red faced and dishevelled. Had their shouting match got physical at some point? Heads started popping out of offices to observe.

“I just want to know what you’re doing at his flat late at night!”

“None of your business! Although I can tell you when I get there tonight, it’s going to be to plot your murder, you nosy, fucking, _arse_!” Harry punctuated his words by slamming his bag on his desk in the center of the DMLE. Around him, Longbottom and Macmillan pretended to examine closely the files on their desks. Boot stared with mild curiosity, while Finnigan frowned and stood by his desk in case interference was needed.

Weasley threw his bag at his desk and put his hands on his hips. “I’m sick of you lying to me, like I’m not your best mate and just have your best interest at heart.”

“My best interest? That’s how you justify following me from work yesterday? Or timing my return home? Do you realize how mad that is? If it were anyone else, I’d arrest them for stalking me!”

Robards shouted above them both, “What is going on here?”

Abruptly they both cut off, seemingly aware for the first time that they had an audience. Weasley and Harry looked at each other silently, then Harry sighed. “I’m sorry sir, just a personal disagreement. We didn’t mean to make it a public issue.”

“And is that your excuse for being late? Do you need to be separated?” He crossed his arms and glared. “Do we need to call for mediation?”

“No!” Harry gasped. “Please, no, sir. We’ll be fine.” He eyed Weasley who nodded reluctantly. “It got out of hand, but it’s fine. It won’t interfere with our work.”

“Very well. But if either of you starts shouting in my department again, I’m calling Wizarding Resources. We don’t have time for petty squabbles. Now get to work!”

“Yes sir,” they mumbled, already fiddling with the paperwork on their desks. Draco saw Harry meet Weasley’s eyes briefly before looking over to Draco with a frown. Weasley also looked over at Draco with a black scowl and then mumbled something under his breath that made Harry hiss. Before it could escalate, Longbottom set a file on Harry’s desk with a warning look.

Draco ducked back into the lab and sat at his desk, unsure what he should do. Obviously there’d been an incident last night with Harry and Weasley. But how much did Weasley know? Should he say anything? Would that help or hinder? Perhaps he should just wait for Harry and see what he needed.

Twice, Draco saw Harry making his way to the lab, but both times he hesitated and continued down to the break room instead. Perhaps he wanted to speak with Draco there? On the pretense of wanting tea, not that anyone would ask, he went to the break room. He checked his mug for a message but it was empty. With a shrug, he sat at the table to wait for Harry.

How long could he conceivably wait here? One could only drag out a cup of tea for so long. And maybe Harry didn’t want to talk to him here anyway, and would rather be in the lab where privacy was easier to obtain. Draco stretched awkwardly and shook out his hands. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife, and it made brewing impossible.

Finally, Harry came to the lab with a small smile. “Malfoy,” he said with a nod. Draco nodded back, understanding this was business not personal. “These notes about the Euphoria mix were from Lydia. But some of the information is missing. Did she have anything else in here about it?”

“Erm… perhaps...” Draco said slowly, turning to his filing cabinet. “Maybe it was one of the ones she left with Robards.” Harry followed him to the corner, out of sight of the door. He wedged himself between the wall and Draco as Draco pulled the drawer open. 

“Oh good, because this doesn’t make much sense and…” Harry leaned in and for just a moment, rested his head on Draco’s shoulder. He cut off a sigh and straightened, moving away.

Draco handed him the file with a small smile. Softly he said, “If there’s anything I can do…”

“I wish there was.” Harry hugged the file to himself and walked out the door, nearly collided with Weasley in the hall.

“Getting cozy with your new best friend?” Weasley asked bitterly.

“Give it a rest or we’ll both be in trouble,” Harry hissed. “We’ll talk about it at home.”

Unwilling to enter the lab, Weasley crossed his arms and called to Draco, “What’s your game, Malfoy? What are you after?”

“I’m not after anything, Weasley. Just playing nice with my colleagues.” Draco noticed the other Junior Aurors watching. Longbottom scanned the surrounding offices for signs of Senior Aurors paying attention.

“I don’t believe you. You always were a ferrety little brat, looking for any way to come out on top. Is that why you’re after Harry? Think he’ll pull you out of the gutter where you belong?”

“Ron...” Harry sighed.

“No, Potter, it’s all right.” Draco came out into the hall so everyone could see him. “He has something to say, better to get it out in the open.”

Longbottom stood nervously, “Erm… this maybe isn’t the best time…” He looked to the Head Auror office but Robards was still shut up tight inside.

“This is a perfect time. Go ahead Weasley. Say your piece.”

Weasley looked between Harry and Draco, unsure where to begin now that he was given free rein to rant. “Have you forgotten that this git tried to kill me?”

Harry rolled his eyes, but Draco laughed bitterly. “Yes, well your lot tried to kill me a few times so… perhaps we should just let that go and not dwell on those years.”

Weasley’s face reddened. “If you’re talking about the bathroom, Harry didn’t know what that spell did and certainly wasn’t trying to kill you like you did me with the wine!”

“All right,” Draco conceded, “how about we just skate over the part where Potter used a spell that translates to ‘sever forever’ on a person, and the fact you weren’t even meant to drink that wine. We can just call it even and move on.”

“Even? You call that fucking _even_?” Weasley asked incredulously. He looked to Harry for support but he only looked at his shoes, face flushed.

“Or I could bring up fifth year on the train, when your little club hexed me and dumped me in an empty carriage.” Weasley’s brows drew down in confusion. “Vinnie and Greg too. Crabbe and Goyle.” Harry and Weasley both stared blankly. “No? You left us so bad off, Vinnie, Greg, and I had to be identified by the wands in our pockets.” Draco wanted to laugh at their confusion, only this wasn’t funny. “Really? Nothing? You almost killed me and you don’t even remember it? I spent a week in St Mungo’s for that!”

“I remember,” Macmillan said loudly. Everyone’s head whipped around to him. “Ron, we put them on the luggage rack. Made a joke about - Goyle being better looking that way.” He kicked at Boot next to him. “You remember?”

“Yes,” Boot said quietly. He twisted his hands and looked at the ground. “I remember. Hannah was there,” he said to Longbottom. “Anthony and Justin too.”

Draco stared smugly at Weasley, “See? They remember.”

“Yeah, well, you deserved it. Coming after Harry then, weren’t you?”

Draco threw his hands up with a sigh at the ceiling. “Yes, all right? Of course I was. He’d just ruined my life and I was sixteen and pissed off without a lot of options. But who knows, maybe he and I would have had a fair fight instead of whatever the fuck that was that left me incoherent for days!”

“You fucking deserved it! All of it! Because you were a little shit back in school and you were never once sorry for any of it! Not for bullying us or - or calling my wife a mudblood!”

“Clearly we remember things differently because Saint Potter always came out ahead in the end. You remember when I was turned into a ferret well enough, yeah? Think that was a lark? Or detention for Flint’s little dementor stunt at the quidditch game? All right? Just because you didn’t see it, doesn’t mean I wasn’t punished for it. But if a little public humiliation will make you feel better…” 

Draco shoved Harry and Weasley back and jumped up on the nearest desk. “Attention everyone!” he yelled with arms spread wide, as if everyone wasn’t staring already. Unfortunately the Senior Aurors came out of their offices, and even Robards opened his door, a scowl on his face.

“Attention! Thank you! It has been brought to my attention that I have not formally apologized for my childish behavior when I was a child!” He turned on the desk to stare down at Weasley who was once again red in the face. “I was a cruel little shit in my younger years. Taught since my birth that power and wealth were to be mine and I loved it.”

Turning to the crowd, he continued, “I was king of the world in fifth year. All the things my father promised were laid before me and I took them as my due. And then - “ he clapped his hands together, a loud ringing sound in the silence, “ - my father went to prison.”

He jumped down from the desk and turned on Weasley. “Imagine, getting out of the hospital and finding a madman had moved into your home. The great wizard your parents praised so readily came back more terrible and wicked than before and you knew in the deepest part of your soul that things were not what they expected.”

Stepping closer to a squirming Weasley, Draco said softly, “‘Oh Draco,’ he says to you, ‘so much you have to offer our cause!’ And you are eager, oh yes, very eager to comply. Because you can do better than your weak father. You can save your mother, save yourself. Just this one task... And then he brands you like fucking cattle.”

Draco lifted the sleeve of his robe to expose the faded pink lines of his Dark Mark. Curious eyes craned to see but even with his pale skin, the lines are barely visible anymore. Draco leaned close to Weasley, who tried to lean away but the wall blocked his movements. When Weasley tried to push Draco away, Draco grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the wall.

“‘So much to offer, young Malfoy’ he says to you,” Draco whispered, rubbing his cheek along Weasley’s cheek. He ignored the way Weasley trembled and ghosted his lips along the shell of Weasley’s ear. “Such a special young man you are. So like your father, with the delicate grace of your mother.” Draco wrenched Weasley’s hair, tilting his head and hissed, “And then you thank every deity you’ve ever heard of that he’s called away before that particular avenue can be explored.”

With a rough shove to Weasley, Draco stepped back. “And you spend a year of your life trying to find a way to kill an innocent man. One of only two men that can possibly save you. Because if you fail, a fate worse than death awaits.” Draco laughed harshly and shook his head. “Don’t you dare, for one second, think that because I didn’t suffer at _your_ hands, that I didn’t suffer at all.” He swallowed harshly and sneered, “The fucking war is over. We’re all just survivors now.”

Turning on his heel, Draco pushed through the silent onlookers and shut himself up in the training room. He fell to his knees as the room seemed to tilt beneath him. Taking gasping breaths, he tugged at his hair and rocked himself. Breathe, he told himself, just breathe. The walls were far, they weren’t closing in. He could breathe. 

“Draco,” he heard distantly. A hand between his shoulder blades. He leaned back into the touch and arms came around him to hold him. “Draco it’s all right.”

He wanted to say he wasn’t all right but his throat was locked shut. Gasping for breath, he could only shake his head. Hot. It was so fucking hot in here. Ash and smoke. _Fuck_.

“You’re okay here, Draco. You’re not there. Look… look…” Harry had his wand out and Draco wanted to laugh. Useless piece of wood. Why did he even carry it around anymore? “Look,” Harry said again softly.

Grass. Beneath them. The wood floor transfigured. Draco sighed as he ran his fingers through it. The drab grey walls had been transformed to resemble a meadow, complete with swaying flowers and dancing butterflies. His breath hitched and then came easier. 

“Yes, see, it’s all right…” Gently, Harry laid him down and he stared up at a brilliant blue sky dotted with wispy white clouds. 

“Harry…” Draco said quietly.

“I’m here. It’s all right.” Harry lay down next to him and took his hand. Tears flowed faster now that he wasn’t gasping for every breath. He curled into Harry and took comfort from the hand rubbing his back. A slow wash of tears became gasping sobs. All the while, Harry held him, making soothing noises until Draco calmed enough to speak.

Draco scrubbed at his face as the tears subsided. “I haven’t broken down like that in years.”

“You were probably overdue.” 

He rolled away from Harry, but still held tight to his hand. Staring at the sky, he said, “Thank you. For this.”

“You’re welcome.”

“This was the biggest room on the floor but it still felt…” Draco didn’t want to describe the way the room closed in and bring it all back. Harry squeezed his hand in comfort. 

“Do you want me to take you home?”

“No!” Draco shuddered at the thought of riding the lift to the Atrium. “I’d probably vomit in the lift. I’ll be all right in a minute.” Harry waited patiently through several minutes of silence while Draco calmed. When he sat up, Harry followed. “This looks so real.”

“It’s an illusion. A good one, maybe, but just an illusion. You can touch the walls.”

Draco stood and walked cautiously across the grass with his hands out. He laughed when he bumped the empty air, that was really the wall of the training room. “Incredible.” He rested his head against the wall, laughing again at what seemed to be empty space. “I haven’t let myself think of those things in so long.”

“Let me take you home,” Harry said softly, hugging Draco from behind.

“Yes, I think I’d like that.”

Everyone studiously ignored them as they went to the lab to gather Draco’s things. He shuddered as the lift doors open, but Harry wrapped an arm around his waist and whispered, “I’m here with you.”

The doors closed behind them and Draco’s heart started to race. He shook his head hard and squeezed his eyes shut. “No, this was a mistake.” Blindly he reached for the buttons to stop the lift or at least get the doors to open on the next floor. He’d decide what to do then, before the darkness swallowed him.

“Draco, it’s all right,” Harry said softly. He gathered Draco in his arms and swayed them back and forth. “Listen, you hear that?” From nowhere, a violin played a slow melody matching their movements. Harry buried Draco’s face in his neck. “We are somewhere else. A romantic holiday where no one cares who we are.” His hand rubbed down Draco’s back as Draco clung to him, needing his words. “Wearing our dress robes, eating somewhere posh. I say something lame like, ‘May I have this dance?’ and I hold you close.” Harry turned his head to kiss the parts of Draco he could reach easily. “I hold you close because you’re mine.”

Draco nodded, his face still buried in Harry’s neck. He could think of a dance. A wide open dance floor and an orchestra to play for them. He was free, not trapped in a box. The lift dinged and Draco only hesitated a moment before pulling away. 

“Can I side-along you?” Harry asked, holding out his elbow for Draco. Draco pressed his lips together and nodded, too afraid to speak. The squeezing darkness would only be a moment, then he would be home. Just a moment.

They landed in the centre of Draco’s flat. It was a relief to be in his safe space, even if it felt cramped at the moment. But Harry wasted no time before shrinking Draco’s furniture and stacking it in a corner. He left the bed and helped Draco onto it. As they lay there together, Harry lazily swirled his wand, creating a meadow much like in the training room. With time on their hands, he continued adding layers so that birds could be heard singing, and every so often a breeze heavy with the scent of jasmine would waft by. Draco wanted to cry all over again, to be cared for so perfectly. When Harry had created all the details he could think of, he tossed his wand to the floor and smiled at Draco. 

“You’re a brilliant wizard, Harry,” Draco said, feeling more calm than he would have thought possible.

Harry shrugged, “I learned a lot during seventh year when there was not much to do but read the spell books Hermione packed for us.”

Draco didn’t want to dwell on his seventh year so he asked, “Is that when you learned to do so much wandless magic?”

“Yeah… my wand broke right around Christmas time and I had a spare wand but… it was horrible. So I started practicing. But I didn’t get much good at it until after the war. And now, for most things, it’s just as easy as using my wand so…”

“Why do you even carry it with you?”

“I still need it sometimes. Like this,” he waved around the room, “It’s so complex, using the wand is easier. Plus, with a suspect, it throws them off guard and sometimes gives me an advantage when they think they’ve disarmed me.”

Draco brushed the hair from Harry’s face with a warm smile, “Brilliant and reckless. You’ll get in trouble one day.”

“That’s okay, I know a brilliant wizard that’s got a huge store of potions to cure me of anything.”

With a laugh, Draco wriggled closer so they were pressed tight against each other. Harry turned on his side and rested his head on Draco’s chest. “Can I ask you something that might make you upset?”

Draco smiled and ran his hands through Harry’s wild curls. “Ask me anything.”

“You once said you almost died five times…” He kept talking, even though Draco tensed beneath him. “And I thought that was just a random number you threw out… but now I think it was deliberate.”

“Yes,” Draco said softly.

“So I know about the train now… And I’m sorry that…” Draco hugged Harry to reassure him it was all right. “And the - the bathroom…” Draco turned on his side so they faced each other and continued caressing Harry wherever he could reach. “And the Room of Hidden Things…” Harry grasped tight to Draco as he trailed off.

“Harry… it’s all right. All that’s done now.”

“I need to know about the others.”

Draco scattered kisses on Harry’s face, lingering on his lips. “After the Fiendfyre, I tried to get free of the castle. I was sure it was going to come down around us. And I bumped into a Death Eater. I had no wand or anything and as far as he knew, every student was the enemy. I pleaded with him to let me go, that I was on his side… I’d have said anything to get free of him at that point. He was raising his wand to attack, surely to kill, when he was knocked out by a stray spell. Then someone punched me. It was bizarre.”

By the end of his tale, Harry was shaking with silent laughter. “That was us. Me, Ron, and Hermione. We were under the Invisibility Cloak.”

“No! Really?” Draco started laughing too. “What are the chances of that?”

“No idea. But at least I knew you were alive. That knowledge came in handy.”

Draco made a noncommittal sound. “I thought they were disillusioned, which was a great idea. So I took the Death Eater’s wand and used it to tie him up. Then I disillusioned myself and stole all the wands I could find. I gave about twelve wands to my father after. He used them as bargaining chips to get us free during the trials.”

“Didn’t save you from Azkaban entirely.”

“No, but the wands and the knowledge my father had about the Death Eaters who had gone into hiding kept it to a minimum. My mother, thankfully, didn’t have to go at all.”

Harry was quiet a moment then asked, “And the last one?”

“It was after you escaped the Manor. At Easter.” Draco’s throat closed up again and he unconsciously tugged on the curls in his hands. 

“I know about that one… I just didn’t realize you were… “ Harry hugged Draco and whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

“It was better than it could have been, I suppose. Most of the werewolves lost their lives. Aunt Bella and my father were punished severely. And I was - my mother saved me. Had Hilly hide me until it was time to take the train back to school. I was so scared I wouldn’t be able to go back. I mean, even with the Carrows there, it was still a safer place to be.”

Draco gently pushed Harry off so he could breathe a little easier as memories washed over him. Hilly hiding him in various places throughout the Manor for three days. Eating scraps of food she stole from the kitchen. Jumping from every creak and groan the house made. That first breath of fresh air on the way to the train station. And the fear lurking in his mother’s eyes.

“We should eat,” Harry said suddenly.

“What?”

“We should eat. It’s probably close to lunch time and food will make us feel better.” Harry stood and found his wand to end the enchantments on the kitchen. “You stay here and I’ll bring you something.”

Draco watched clouds drift across the blue sky of the ceiling while Harry gathered food. He boxed away the painful memories to deal with again on another day.

“Here you go!” Harry held a wide bowl out to him.

“Is that pie and ice cream?”

“Yes.”

Draco should probably object. They were grown men and shouldn’t be eating pie for lunch. On the other hand, it had been a long day. “Perfect,” he said with a smile, sitting cross legged on his bed. 

“Cheers!” The clinked their spoons together and dug in, determined to let the chaos rest.

Draco smiled around a spoonful of pie. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

Harry’s return smile warmed Draco to his toes. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”


	7. Chapter 7

“Malfoy, can you test this blood sample for hellebore?”

Draco looked up from his cauldron at Ron Weasley. “Absolutely. I can take care of that this afternoon. That all right?”

“Yes, thank you.” He dropped the test tube on Draco’s desk and nodded, avoiding Draco’s eye.

Six weeks since their massive blow up and he hadn’t made eye contact with Draco even once. While he still avoided Draco whenever possible, his animosity seemed to have drained away completely. Now they skirted each other awkwardly, neither friends nor enemies. 

“Hey Draco!” Harry said cheerily, passing Weasley on his way into the lab. Harry, on the other hand, had heated the friendship cauldron to the boiling point and made no excuses for it. “Robards said since it was your birthday, we could leave early.”

“Did he really?”

“No, of course not,” Harry said with a laugh. He sat in Draco’s chair and propped his feet up on the desk. “I pushed back the dinner to eight. Nev says Hannah should be free by then. And Johnson said that would give him more time to pick up Claire. Stebbins said his daughter is bringing her boyfriend after all, and Whittle said her husband can’t make it.”

“Quite a crowd we’ve gathered.”

“Yup, so put on your happy face. No grumping for the birthday boy!” He flung a rubber band at Draco, with a grin.

“Potter, you sap, I’m trying to work here!”

“It’s Harry, and I know whatever’s in that cauldron needs to simmer a while. It always does. Nev and I are going to lunch. Come with us.”

“I have a sample to look at for Weasley.”

“You can do it later. Come with us!” 

Draco was about to sigh and argue, but one look at Harry had him changing his mind. His wild hair looked like he’d spent the last hour running his hands through it, a nervous habit Draco had noticed. And although he looked relaxed, leaning his chair back, Draco could see the tense set of his shoulders and the nervous jiggling of his leg that threatened to send the chair to the floor.

He thudded forward on the chair and tapped at the desk. “Please come with us,” Harry said quietly, his mouth quirking up in a nervous half smile.

The nerves were catching, and had Draco pressing his lips together in sympathy. He nodded, “All right. Let me ward this and I’ll be ready to go.”

Later, Draco would wonder if Harry had even planned how their lunch would go. Had he agonized over every word? Planned some elaborate speech? Looked for exactly the right opening? 

“Ugh, why do I always forget to order my burger with no pickles?” Longbottom said, his face scrunched in disgust as he used a fork to pull the pickles from his cheeseburger.

“I’m gay,” Harry blurted out.

Draco froze with the ketchup bottle hovering over his chips. Apparently Harry decided no opening would present itself and to the point was the way to go.

“Erm, all right,” Longbottom said slowly, looking at Harry and at Draco. Draco hoped his face didn’t read the absolute shock he was feeling. He should have prepared how he was meant to take the news.

“I just wanted you to know.”

“Yeah, okay... er, I’m straight,” Longbottom responded apologetically, as though parting reluctant news to the two of them.

Harry grinned, “Yeah I know. Kind of figured, with you being married to Hannah and all.”

“Okay. I just thought we were sharing. I’m not entirely sure what’s going on here.” 

“I’m coming out to you.”

“Yeah, I got that. I’m just not sure what I’m supposed to say when someone tells me something like that. Like, do you need advice?” His eyes darted to Draco and back to Harry. “Because I only know about sex with women. Well, with Hannah and I’m not talking about that…”

“No,” Harry laughed, “definitely no. I’ve - got that - all worked out. No, I’m just telling you so when I have a boyfriend, it’s not some horrible shock.”

“Oh. Okay.” Longbottom smiled and took a bite of his burger. He swallowed audibly and said, “Is that why you and Malfoy have been hanging out so much? He helping you figure things out?”

Harry cleared his throat while Draco just smiled wickedly, “In a manner of speaking.” Harry spluttered at Draco’s comment. Draco took a sip of his water and winked.

“Well it’s great you’re finally getting the chance to, you know, work all that out. I’m sure it was difficult with Ginny and all.” He paused for a second, “Wait, Ron doesn’t know, does he?”

“No. Not yet. I thought maybe…”

“You want me to go with you?” Longbottom smiled at Draco. “Yeah, he’d probably shit kneazles if you showed up with Harry.”

“And crups,” Draco said with a laugh. “I suggested he talk to you first.”

“Thanks, Malfoy. And Harry. I’m glad you trust me enough. Yeah, I’ll be happy to help you with Ron. Just let me know when.”

When it came time to leave, Harry offered to take the tray of their dishes to the return window. Draco followed Longbottom outside to wait on him.

“Are you two a thing?” Longbottom asked.

“What?”

“Are you two in a relationship? And he doesn’t want to say?”

Draco briefly debated lying but figured that wasn’t worth the effort. Either they would work out and everyone would know, or they would break up and Harry would surely turn to Longbottom for comfort. “Yes.”

Longbottom only nodded. He smiled as Harry came out the door and led the way down the road towards the Ministry. With a hidden wink to Draco, Longbottom pat Harry on the back. “So Harry, last time I did the coffee pick-up, I noticed a new barista Tabitha hired. Want me to see if he wants your number?”

“What? No!” Harry stuttered. “I don’t - you can’t just fix me up with people!”

“Not _people_ , a fit bloke. I guess he’s fit? I’ll get Malfoy to go with me next time and he can help me figure it out. You can tell me who Harry might find attractive, can’t you Malfoy?”

“Certainly. I have _excellent_ taste in men.”

“Don’t worry, Harry. We’ll take good care of you.”

\--------

“How about this?” Harry asked, arms out to display the robes he was wearing.

Draco looked up from tying his shoes. “Much better.” The robes were actually Draco’s, but fitted Harry well enough for a night out. 

“We should go shopping. Your wardrobe leaves much to be desired.”

“Well, I don’t have much need for more than casual clothes and my work robes.”

“You are a grown man. You should have a few dress robes for various occasions. What did you wear to Weasley’s wedding?” Draco smoothed the lines of the robe and ran his fingers through Harry’s hair in one last futile attempt to neaten it.

“I was best man. Had to wear some fancy get-up Ginny picked out which I subsequently shredded one drunken evening.”

Draco kissed Harry’s cheek. “Ah. What about Longbottom’s wedding?”

“It was super casual. She wore a red sundress and he had on jeans. We picnicked by a lake and went swimming after.” 

“Wow.” Draco tucked his wallet in one pocket and his wand in another. “For future reference, that’s not what our wedding will look like.”

“Our wedding?” Harry gasped.

Draco blushed and rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. Are you ready to go, or shall I be late to my own birthday party?”

“Wait…”

“If you think I’m going to blow you before we go, you should have asked ten minutes ago.”

“No,” Harry laughed before sobering again. “Not that, although I’ll remember for next time. But, I invited someone else and I don’t know if she’ll come. She didn’t answer my owl. But you should know, just in case...”

A tight band squeezed Draco’s heart. He couldn’t mean - couldn’t possibly have - 

“I invited your mother,” Harry said softly.

Draco shook his head violently. He covered eyes that were burning and moaned, “No. You didn’t.”

“Draco…”

“Why? Why would you do that?”

“Because I want you to be happy and I think you miss her more than you let on.”

“No, I don’t. They - they kicked me out. They hate me.”

“Draco, your mother did so much for you. Sacrificed so much. Do you really think she doesn’t care now?”

Draco couldn’t respond and was suddenly finding it hard to breathe. He blinked away tears and silently cursed Harry. “What am I - what do I do if she’s there?”

“I don’t know. But I’ll be with you, all right?”

“Yes… Okay… “ He wiped at his eyes and shuddered as a charm hit him. An unnaturally wide smile stretched his lips and he tottered on the edge of giggling. “Did you just hit me with a Cheering Charm?”

Harry made no pretense of hiding his own grin. “Yeah. Always wondered what the use of that particular charm was. How do you feel?”

“Like laughing and crying. You’re a right bastard. Okay, let’s go before it wears off and I change my mind.”

“Hold on tight,” Harry smiled, holding out his elbow for Draco. “It’s going to be a wild ride.”


End file.
